Brute Force
by JolinarJackson
Summary: Banks in L.A. are being robbed apparently at random. The robbers are always a step ahead of the FBI, until Charlie begins working on the case and becomes the gang's new target.   Charlie/Amita Pre-Ship
1. Chapter 1

**Brute Force**

_Word Count: _45.068

_Summary: _Banks in L.A. are being robbed apparently at random. The robbers are always a step ahead of the FBI, until Charlie begins working on the case and becomes the gang's new target.

_Characters: _Charlie Eppes, Don Eppes, Colby Granger, David Sinclair, Megan Reeves, Larry Fleinhardt, Amita Ramanujan, OCs

_Pairing: _Charlie/Amita (pre-Ship)

_Rating:_ PG-13_  
Spoiler: _None_  
Setting:_ Between seasons 1 and 2 - Megan and Colby are already there but they do not know Charlie yet_  
Warnings: _Violence, verbal homophobia_  
Author's Note: _This was actually my first _Numb3rs_ story and was published a long time ago in Germany. I belatedly thought of translating it and here it is.

_Feedback:_ Can't breathe without it.

_Beta: _An-Jelly-Ca – thank you!

_Disclaimer: _I'm not making money with this fanfic. The tv-show _Numb3rs _and the characters appearing within it belong to their producers and creators. Any similarities to living or dead persons are purely coincidental and not intended.

XXX

XXX

**8 Banks**

**10 Million dollars**

**5 Robbers**

**1 Objective**

**Prologue**

Connor Hill had always thought that it would be difficult to get back into his old speciality. Instead, he found that banks had gotten more easily accessible during his prison stay. Perhaps this also had something to do with the young man who sat in the white van besides him and whose laptop computer screen created the only illumination in the driver's cab of the vehicle, while the streetlamps outside were wrapping Chinatown in dim light. Connor heard Steve, Justin and Brian checking their equipment in the back part of the car and wondered, whether the FBI had any leads on them yet. They had not been able to discover any agents while scouting out the _Bank of America_ branch office within the last few days. And Connor's men had paid very close attention. Connor guessed that they were ahead of the Federal agents.

They were careful enough before every new robbery. According to the local news, the FBI had taken on the case since the raid on the _Bank of America_ on Sunset Boulevard. Connor had been worried at first, because the FBI was generally regarded as better equipped than the LAPD. However, until now, they hadn't needed to be concerned by the FBI's involvement. The FBI had not been able to prevent the attack on _Wilshire State Bank_ and it looked like none of the authorities were here now, either. It was time to strike.

"How far are you?" he asked.

His front-seat passenger turned to look towards him only briefly before he concentrated on the screen again. "Their protection's good."

"You said that you could do it, Kenny," Connor answered a little impatiently and the younger man nodded hastily.

"Sure. I will. I need only a second." It got quiet for a few minutes, and then Kenny spoke up again: "Okay, I've got it. The cameras are off." He rummaged about in the glove compartment and finally brought a memo pad to light. "The bank manager got a new code for the security system by e-mail this morning." He scribbled the eight-digit number on a sheet of paper and tore it out before he handed it to Connor. "This is it."

"Perfect," Connor answered and then spoke louder so that the three men in the back area of the car could hear him through the safety net, "We go in."

Only half an hour later, the white van left Chinatown and disappeared on to a side street. The robbery wasn't noticed until the next morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**1.**

"Welcome to my personal nightmare," said Agent Megan Reeves. Her colleague Don Eppes looked up from his desk at her comment. She held a snow-white card which stated in golden calligraphy _We're Getting Married!_ Megan held the card as if it was a dangerous weapon and she was expecting it to explode at any moment. "My prissy, spoiled brat cousin is getting married. She's already run off one Maid of Honor and now she wants me to step in."

Don laughed. "So, I assume that she has no idea that you don't like her?"

"She is gruesome. She is..." Megan appeared to be searching for words, and glanced around the FBI office for inspiration and ended with, "... well, gruesome."

"Cancel," Don advised.

"That'd be impolite, right?" Megan questioned but with a note of hope in her voice.

"You want me to give you permission to cancel?"

"As my boss, you could write an excuse for me," Megan answered, tucking pale brown hair behind her ears, before she dropped the card on her desk.

A man hurried from the elevators in Don and Megan's direction. The man's jeans, backpack and thick jacket were wet from the falling rain outside. His sneakers left damp patches on the ground, and his dark locks hung wetly onto his forehead.

"Don," he said, putting a sheet of paper on the agent's desk. Megan had not heard him coming and looked around, surprised at his appearance. He brushed his wet locks out of his face and Don was tempted to ask why his brother didn't use his newly acquired driver's license instead of taking his bicycle in such weather. But Charlie was still talking, barely pausing for breath, "I'm in a hurry, but I wanted to bring you your statistics."

Don smiled in amusement. "Good morning to you, too, Sunshine." The young man smiled and took a quick step away from Don's desk when he realised that he was dripping on his brother's files. Megan stepped closer to Don and into Charlie's field of vision, curious. Don indicated his colleague. "This is Megan Reeves. She's replacing Terry. Megan, my brother Charlie."

Megan remembered. "Oh, the math genius." She had worked through the closed cases of the last year, stumbling over Charlie's name again and again.

She hadn't expected him to be so young. Charlie shook her hand, then immediately turned to Don again. He shrugged. "Sorry, I'm really in a hurry." Don took the paper which his brother had brought him.

"When are you not?"

Megan glanced curiously at the numbers. "What is this?"

Charlie pulled at the strap of his backpack. "Baseball statistics." He rolled his shoulders, looking for a better position for the strap of the overcrowded bag. Megan tried to guess its weight, but was stumped for answer. In any case, there were a lot of books in it, because the bag seemed to be in danger of ripping apart at any moment.

Don explained. "He lost a bet."

Charlie raised a hand. "Statistically speaking, that wasn't allowed to happen. This was an anomaly."

Don grinned. "No, you just suck at golfing, buddy." He folded the sheet before he put it into his shirt pocket. "And I have good chances of winning a couple of baseball bets against David now."

Charlie raised a warning hand. "These calculations aren't a guarantee."

Don grinned at him. "But they're a chance for me."

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Gotta go."

Don asked, "Where to so quick?"

He knew that Charlie didn't have classes this morning. "I promised Amita I'd be on time. We're looking after her cousin."

Don's brown eyes widened in surprise, "You're babysitting?"

Charlie shrugged, waved half-heartedly and was gone.

Megan raised her eyebrows, impressed. "He's like the wind."

"Yeah," Don answered, grinning, "I inherited the good manners genes."

Agent Colby Granger hung up the phone at his desk only a couple of steps away, got up and waved for his partner David Sinclair to follow his lead. Excited, he approached Don and Megan as he pulled on his jacket. "We've got another one."

Megan picked up her jacket, immediately slipping into professional mode.

Don shrugged into his suit jacket and they all moved toward the elevators. He checked to see that the he had his cell phone as he went. "Where?"

Colby impatiently pushed the elevator button. "Another _Bank of America_ branch office. No witnesses and one million dollars was stolen."

Don cursed. "This is the eighth bank this group has hit."

David nodded. "Altogether, they've gotten away with ten million dollars now," He said as they stepped into the elevator car.

Don put his hands on his hips. "Let's see to it that they don't get another dime."

XXX

They were cleverer, more skilful and quicker than all other bank robbers Don had previously investigated. They'd managed to deactivate the cameras and alarms without raising any warnings, and always hit in the middle of the night. When the robberies were discovered the next morning, both the safe and the safety deposit boxes were left open; it was almost as if the team was daring anyone to find them.

Don and Megan were standing in the entrance area of the _Bank of America_ in Chinatown with the branch manager. A stocky man in his forties, he gesticulated wildly with his hands while he was speaking. "One million dollars is missing and the contents of some safe deposit boxes. I can't explain this to my customers. What shall I say? That those bandits managed to break in without anyone noticing? How did they manage it?"

Don raised his eyebrows, looking to Megan who nodded sympathetically. They always heard the same story from the victims. The agents always asked them the same questions, too, hoping to get a lead.

Don put his hands on his hips, taking a quick look outside at a rain-wet L.A., taking in the curious onlookers and the press who'd gathered by the glass entrance doors.

"Were those boxes special?"

Until now, the boxes of the bank's richest ten customers had been cleared out. The perpetrators had never permitted themselves a mistake in that. Colby had suggested an inside job, but the robbers had targeted different banks which made that theory unlikely. The man shrugged. "I'd have to look in the computer to see who rented them."

Megan nodded. "Do that and send us the list. Is there anything you'd like to add?"

The branch manager shrugged helplessly and then shook his head.

XXX

Megan and Don passed the group of curious onlookers in front of the blocked off bank's entrance area. Half the road had been closed for the cars of the FBI. Forensics was there and a SWAT team searched the bank's basement to make sure that nobody had stayed behind. Don and David had parked their cars beside those of the police. It was a cool January day; it had started to rain overnight and not stopped since. The sky remained cloudy and announced even more rain. For the sun-spoilt residents of L.A., this was reason enough to dig out the thick jackets. Don put his hands into his coat pockets. A reporter yelled a question at Don, waving a mike in his general direction. "This is the eighth attack within a short period of time, Agent Eppes. Do you have any leads?"

"No comment," he answered. "Consult our press department." They walked to the area where the cars of the investigators were parked. They stopped between Don and David's cars, looking back thoughtfully at the building.

Megan raised the collar of her coat. "They know exactly what they want and they never make a mistake. These guys are good."

Don shrugged. "Yeah. We're not getting anywhere like this. We need new leads." He considered calling his brother. A couple of years ago, Don never would have thought he and Charlie would be working together. And just a year ago, he never would have thought that Charlie could do more than help him with embezzlement or tax evasion cases. But now he knew that he could actually help track down murders.

Colby and David joined them. When Don looked questioningly at Colby, the younger agent shook his head. "We looked into the video footage and sent it back to our techs just in case. Same old, same old. Shortly before the attack, they switch the cameras off and after the robbery, they switch them on again. We didn't have the time to check the cameras of the surrounding shops but I think that they'll show the same as always, anyway - they scout the area out and always keep away from the surrounding cameras. We're asking around, in case someone did see something. But that didn't help us during the last two attacks. The robbery times have helped ensure that these guys have no witnesses."

Megan leant against the car. "They've got no problem accessing the bank through the front entrance. They must have the codes for the security system."

David shrugged sceptically. "Sure, but where did they get them?"

Colby said, "Which leads us back to the theory of an inside job."

Don folded his arms, looking at the bank. "They ought to have had one in all eight banks. That's unlikely, but we'll check all employees just to be on the safe side. I'll bring Charlie in." At David's nod of consent, Don added, "Pick up the video footage from the surrounding shops and send it to the techs as well. Maybe we'll catch a break, and they've caught something." With that Don got into his SUV.

David opened the door to his car, and Megan climbed into the front passenger seat, leaving Colby to get into the back. "Who's Charlie?" Colby asked.

Megan answered, "Don's brother."

David picked up the explanation. "He's a math professor at CalSci. He's helped us out on previous cases."

Colby pulled his eyebrows together sceptically. "Math?"

Megan shrugged. "I haven't worked with him yet, but I read through the old case files, and his math thing seems to work."

David nodded in confirmation. "I've seen it. He's unbelievable. A genius. Half a year ago, somebody tried to hack into the FBI's witness protection database - safe houses, new identities ... everything is in there and only accessible for the agents in charge. That data's high-security, but our hacker almost would have made it. Charlie and two techs designed a new firewall - it took weeks."

Colby seemed impressed. "Did you get the hacker?"

David nodded. "He says he's innocent, but the burden of proof is on our side."

Colby shook his head. "I still don't think that math can help us. That's like me saying I could read the robbers thoughts and therefore see where they're hiding. Nobody can calculate something like that."

David laughed. "Charlie would lynch you for saying that."

Megan shrugged. "It helped in the past, Colby. We should at least give it a chance."

XXX

Charlie's office door was open and Don heard him and Amita laughing. He stopped just outside the door, the files for Charlie tucked under his arm. His brother's office was an ordered mess. Charlie knew where everything was, but Don was overtaxed every time he saw the crammed shelves and the book towers on the chairs and tables. The office reflected Charlie's mind - an unholy mess of formulas, numbers and facts. His brother sat behind his unsurprisingly cluttered desk. His TA and friend Amita had found a free seat on the table-top with her back to Don. She fed a toddler on Charlie's lap.

Don shook his head in wonder. He hadn't known that Charlie liked children. He had never seen his brother with a child. And, if Don didn't know better, he'd think the three in front of him were a family. The little girl had curly, dark hair like Charlie, Amita's darker complexion and deep brown eyes.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," he said, stepping into the office. Charlie looked up to him and Amita slipped from her perch on the desk. She turned to face Don.

Charlie got up, the little girl on his hip with an arm wrapped around her as if he was used to having a child around. "No, of course not."

"Hi, Amita," Don greeted with a smile.

She smiled back, tucking a dark strand of hair behind her right ear. "Hello. Should I leave?"

"No, of course not," Don said as he closed the door. "Charlie, I need your help. And I think yours also, Amita." She raised her eyebrows, surprised. Until now, she had at the most worked together with Charlie on FBI cases. It was the first time that Don indicated that he needed her help in particular. "We're investigating those bank robberies," Don said, more for Amita's sake than his brother's. Only last week, he had spent an evening with his father and Charlie, complaining that they hadn't found any leads in the case.

Amita nodded. "I've seen the news."

Charlie knew that Don's team was having problems with the case. He was frustrated and if Charlie could help to change that, then he would. "What can I do for you?"

"I need a point of origin calculation like the one you did for the serial killer case. You know the lawn sprinkler thing."

Charlie nodded. "You want to know where they come from." He sighed. "I still have the notes, the FBI made about the procedure of bank robberies. Those are a good starting point."

Don handed him the files. "Copies of the reports for the current attacks. They've robbed eight banks. Different ones but they've hit the _Bank of America_ more often than the other branches. I'm afraid we don't know much more than that."

Charlie nodded, putting the child into her stroller, before he took the alarmingly narrow files from Don and leafed through them. He sat back down. "Okay. I'll see what I can do."

Don continued: "Amita, we assume that the robbers knew the banks' security codes. They came at night, and turned off the alarm. They also knew the codes for the safe deposit boxes of some of the customers. Both the codes and the owners of the lockers are registered in the banks' computers."

"You think one of them is a hacker," Amita suspected.

Don nodded. "Computers are your special subject, so ..."

Amita bit her lip thoughtfully. "I can look at the banks' systems and see how difficult it is to hack in. And hackers leave an electronic fingerprint. I could also search for something like that."

"That'd be great. I'll ask the banks whether it's possible that you look at their systems from here."

"That's possible." She grinned at Don mischievously. "One must only know how."

Don brushed a hand through his dark hair. "Well, I better inform the persons responsible and my supervisors that I've asked you to investigate from this angle, though."

Amita nodded. "Okay."

Don put his hands on his hips. "Well, that's it from my side." Charlie was focused on the files and Amita sat down in front of her laptop. Don felt useless, so he left them to their tasks.


	3. Chapter 3

**2.**

In the afternoon, Charlie came into the FBI office. He passed security quickly showing his badge and rushed toward an elevator whose doors were already closing. His bag and the big maps in his arms hindered him and he accepted the fact that he'd have to take the next elevator up. But the agent standing in the lift prevented the doors from closing when he saw Charlie running toward him.

"Thank you," Charlie mumbled, opening the zipper of his jacket, before he hung the badge around his neck. One of the maps slipped from his arms and he cursed. Before he worked out how to get the map back without losing his bag or the remaining plans to gravity, his companion picked it up. "Thank you," Charlie smiled.

Colby glanced at Charlie's badge. "Professor Eppes," he said, surprised.

"Yeah."

"You're Don's brother?"

Charlie nodded.

"I'm Colby Granger. I'm the new guy."

"Hi," Charlie answered and, looking at his full arms, added: "I ... would shake your hand, but ..."

"That's okay," Colby said. They reached their floor and left the elevator. Colby put his hands in his trouser pockets while they walked to Don's desk. "So, you calculate where our robbers are hiding."

"You sound sceptical," Charlie replied with a smile. He was used to the government authorities doubting his tactics.

"Well, I'm more the practical type and not the theoretical one," Colby explained.

Don saw his brother coming toward him in Colby's company and got up. He nodded at him. "That was fast," he said.

Charlie gave him a smile. "I had very few variables to incorporate."

Don answered, "Yeah, I'm sorry." He took a couple of the maps from Charlie. Then, he addressed Colby. "Megan and David are in the break room. Can you get them while I help Charlie to prepare everything in the conference room?" Colby nodded, taking his coffee cup along.

"He's sceptical," Charlie said, as he and Don entered the conference room.

"He's ex-military," Don explained, putting the maps on one of the tables. Charlie let his backpack glide to the ground after he had put the remaining maps on the table. He took a look through the conference room's glazed front into the busy open-plan office. Then, he selected two of the maps and fastened them to the bulletin board with Don's help.

"Amita's still working on the data. But I'm to tell you that the hacker must have been very skilful. It's extremely hard to access the files containing the security codes and the list of the tenants of the safe deposit boxes."

Megan, David and Colby had heard the last sentences and Megan asked, "How skilful are we talking about?"

Charlie turned to face the three agents who had settled down at the table, armed with coffee. "Very skilful - a genius. Amita found out that somebody had access to the data from the outside. I suspect you've thought of an insider."

Colby answered in a voice which did not tolerate contradiction. "That's right."

Don liked his new colleague, but he thought that the army still rubbed off on Colby too much. He had trouble accepting other opinions. Don only hoped that it would not cause any difficulties between Colby and Charlie because his brother could be just as mule headed.

Charlie gave Colby a smile. "That theory's invalid. The robbers may have found an insider in one of the banks, but in all the branches concerned? I don't think so."

"We won't rule out that theory," Colby replied.

Don joined his colleagues at the table, and decided to interrupt the discussion when he noticed how Charlie's eyes narrowed in warning. He looked at his newest colleague curiously. "Colby, you spoke to our video experts."

"Yeah," he answered. "And I just came from a tour of the stores near the branch office that was attacked today. And ... we've got a picture of the car for the first time."

Megan, David and especially Don pricked up their ears. "Really?"

Colby nodded. "Until now, they didn't park in front of any cameras. However, this time they overlooked a camera at the supplier entrance of a supermarket directly next to the bank, presumably because the market was closed by the public health department weeks ago. The robbers were recorded when they parked behind the bank and then went around it to the front entrance. All five of them were men."

Megan leant back in her chair. "That's why no-one saw a car before. They park behind the banks near the supplier entrances. The supplies come first thing in the morning. Not at night. No witnesses."

Colby continued. "It's a white van. The camera didn't catch the license plate or the faces of our guys. It was dark in the lane and the footage is grainy at best. Our experts are working on it, but they don't think that they can do much; hopefully they'll get enough for an APB."

Don nodded satisfied. "It's a start." He addressed Charlie who stood waiting before the two maps. "What have you got?" he asked. Charlie had printed out an overview of L.A. and marked the areas where the robbers could come from in different colours. Don noticed that there were alarmingly several big hot zones.

Charlie seemed to interpret his thoughtful look correctly. "Remember how I told you that apparently coincidental patterns made by humans can't be coincidental most of the time?" he asked. Don nodded.

David also remembered and answered, "It's impossible to make a coincidental pattern since people always have a pattern ready in their subconscious."

"Well, actually, I said, that it isn't impossible," Charlie corrected with his forefinger lifted up, "but difficult." He sighed. "Those bank robbers did it."

Don rubbed his forehead in frustration. "And therefore your calculations aren't effective?"

Charlie nodded. "That's why I found more than one zone."

Colby shook his head. "I count eight zones. Eight. We could just as well go out and ask people whether they've seen a white van by any chance."

Charlie answered, "I know there are too many, but with the Brute Force method, I've calculated the probability with which the perpetrators are hiding in the respective zone."

Megan frowned questioningly. "Brute Force?" she asked.

"It's an exclusion procedure. Each of the hot zones have values. Depending on what is in it. For example, bank robbers won't hide in a quarter in which police departments or security companies are stationed, but rather in zones which are as uninhabited as possible, in other words where they are least likely to be noticed." Charlie answered. He indicated the hot zone outlined on the second map. "I have given this zone a probability of 61% - the highest of the eight. An industrial park. No squad cars go through there - I checked with the police. Many of the buildings are abandoned, so only a few people are there." He nodded at Colby. "And the ones who still work there wouldn't notice a white van. Many vans or delivery trucks are parked there."

Colby snorted in disbelief. "61%." He looked at Don. "Come on, this is nonsense. You can't calculate where a group of bank robbers is hiding."

Charlie continued, "By the way, a company that rents out storerooms is located in the area. A lot of space for spoils. Nobody asks what you want to store as long as you pay. And those rooms are big enough for vans, too." Megan got up and jotted down the name of the street, in which the storerooms were situated on a sticky note. Then she went to the desk in the back corner of the room and called the information service.

Colby shook his head. "61% is next to nothing," he said.

Charlie folded his arms. "More than half. The robbers are there with a 61% probability." Don rubbed his forehead. 61% was less than 100% or even 80%, but Charlie was right. A little more than half would have to do.

Nevertheless, he asked, "What comes next?"

Charlie indicated the remaining, still rolled up maps on the table. "38% - a neighbourhood with many detached houses - neighbours pay attention to each other. 35% - a quarter with a police station and two safety companies which drive their rounds because of the large amount of thefts in the area. 22% - a quarter, where only schools and kindergartens are situated, in addition to a community centre and a church. 13% - the smallest zone, a deserted swimming pool. It's rented out again and although the tenant doesn't use the area at the moment, the danger is too big that he suddenly makes up his mind and shows up there. 8% - outside the town, no buildings with a radius of 15 miles. They'd have to live in a tent. 5% - an exclusive residential district with security service. 3% - a shopping street, too many people."

Colby remained sceptical. "And if the robbers are in none of these hot zones?"

Charlie answered with conviction. "They have to be in one of them." Don knew that tone of voice. Charlie got defiant if someone doubted his calculations. He had a reason to. He almost never made mistakes. And if he was mistaken, then it was due to falsified or incorrect data, sometimes because of the wrong approach - never because of wrong calculations. "My calculations are correct."

Colby shook his head. "Don, tell me you don't believe this nonsense."

"This nonsense raised my closed case rate up to 85% last year," Don answered.

Megan re-joined them and stopped next to Don. She held up the sticky note in her hand, on which she'd scribbled the address and phone number of the storerooms' administration. "And he could be right. The owner did actually rent out to a man driving a white van. He remembers him, because he signed under the name John Doe and added a hundred-dollar note per renting rate so that no questions would be asked."

David shook his head in disapproval. "And people don't call things like that in?"

Megan shrugged. "He said he neither saw corpse transports at night nor heard strange noises coming from the storeroom. Therefore, it was okay for him as long as no one asked questions. He's cooperating. He doesn't want trouble now that we're investigating."

Don nodded. "We're going to check that storeroom out immediately." He clapped Charlie on the shoulder. "Thanks." His brother smiled weakly while the four agents quickly left the room.

XXX

The storerooms were a little bigger than garages, with dirty green painted rolling gates which extended overhead. Tire tracks and footprints could be recognized on the muddy ground. The business seemed to flourish - more, than Don had anticipated. The wire-netting fence with the barbed wire on the crown kept burglars away. The administrator's office was a container. The agents heard the television playing inside the container, while the employee standing before them - Jason Cox - buttoned his parka due to the cold wind outside. He let the agents feel that they disturbed him in his day, chewing emphatically on his chewing gum while he was speaking with them. "Yeah, the boss told me that you were on your way over here. FBI. He had to go home. Are four of you guys really necessary?" he asked morosely, shoving his hands into the pockets. Don looked around.

Apparently, they were alone at the moment. They couldn't have interrupted much more than his afternoon television program.

However, he couldn't see the back rows of the storerooms. "We're trying to catch dangerous bank robbers."

"Oh, them!" Jason said dismissively. "Yeah. Saw it on TV." He rummaged in one of his coat pockets and dug out a cap which he put over his clipped, black hair. "Come with me. I'll show you the units the guy rented." He walked down the first row.

Don and his team followed him. "So, he rented more than one unit?" Don asked.

"Yeah. Paid cash. More than necessary. Signed in as John Doe." Jason stopped, indicating three gates situated next to each other. "Here."

"You got the keys?" Don asked.

Jason laughed. "Official?" He snorted. "Hell, no." He rummaged about in his pocket again. "But sometimes the guys who rent here don't pay at the beginning of the new month. We wait for two months, and then we open the door and sell the junk in there. Locksmiths are expensive. We get cheated way too often." He unlocked all three gates. "I got to go to the office again." He walked back through the cold winter wind.

Megan raised her eyebrows. "You know, I'm also convinced that my landlady is searching my apartment."

Don laughed. "What could you possibly be hiding in there?" He opened the first gate with a strong shove upwards. The four assembled in front of the room, staring inside.

Finally, Colby said, "Well, that's disappointing." He stepped into the empty room.

David opened the second gate. "Empty!" Colby heard him calling.

"Charlie was wrong after all," Colby said, looking at Don as if he should have known that fact from the beginning.

Don grimaced doubtfully. "White van, John Doe … it's fitting a bit too well."

"Don!" Megan called in that moment. She'd opened the third room. The three men rushed over to her.

Colby looked inside and sighed in disappointment. "Empty."

Megan held up a bill. "Except for that." Somebody had written a message on it with a ballpoint pen.

_Catch me if you can, Agent Eppes._


	4. Chapter 4

**3.**

"They know who's investigating the case," Don said as Megan fetched a plastic evidence bag from her car.

David nodded, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. "You were on the news, Don. Albeit shortly." A late model luxury sedan pulled into a reserved parking space next to the office.

Jason joined them. "My boss," he said, nodding to the car.

Megan put the bill in her coat pocket and slammed the car door.

Hank got out of his old, battered Ford, blinking at the four agents. He was in the 60s and a little pudgy with piercing, grey eyes. "Did you find something?"

Don didn't return the curious smile. He waved Megan to follow him, before he walked over to the administration office. "We'd like to talk to you and your employee in your office, Mr. Gillion." Colby leant against Megan's car in which they had come here together, waiting, while David called Charlie to update him.

Hank stopped for a moment, confused, then he nodded slowly. "Sure," he answered nervously. "Let's step inside." The container was small, overcrowded with three big filing cabinets, two desks, a television set and a computer. Four metal chairs with threadbare seats made of leather were in the office, two at the desks for Hank and Jason and two at the door for customers.

Don and Megan preferred to stand while Hank and Jason were sitting down on the chairs at the desks. Don said without beating about the bush, "They knew that we were coming and vacated their storage room."

Hank lifted his eyebrows in surprise, and then got up hastily. "I told no one, agent. And Jason didn't, either. Or did you?" Jason shook his head quickly.

Megan answered sternly, "Well, someone did warn them."

Hank declared panic-stricken, "We didn't tell anybody." He looked at Jason who shrugged, and then again to the sceptical agents. "I swear."

XXX

The only noise in the FBI's conference room was the squeaking of the felt-tip with which Charlie wrote on the dry erase board. Don stopped in the doorway, thinking about how often he had stepped into the garage of his childhood home and found Charlie in his own little world of numbers, oblivious to everything else, and decided that he'd lost count. An image sprang to Don's mind of a five year old Charlie, scribbling pages and pages of formulas on sheets of notebook paper that he had taped to the wall. It had been their mother's idea to install the increasingly larger black boards. Don still remembered the argument that had erupted when his ping-pong table had to be moved to the cellar to make room for his brother's mathematical creativity. It wasn't the first quarrel over Charlie and certainly not the last.

Don sighed, tightening his grip on the coffee cup, and stepped into the room. "What are you working on?"

Charlie turned to face him, startled, and then he smiled in embarrassment. "I've thought of a new approach. I can use a mixture of a statistical analysis and probability calculus to find out which bank they'll hit next."

"Didn't you tell us that they act randomly? So, you can't find a pattern to work with, right?"

Charlie smiled. "It's not about patterns." Don raised his eyebrows in question. "With baseball games, there are no patterns, either," Charlie explained. "Everything depends on the performance of the players." Don nodded. "Nevertheless, one can calculate with probability calculus and statistical analysis which team could win the next game."

"You know the players and their weak points – that's what you're using," Don said in understanding.

Charlie nodded. "Here, I work with other factors like ... the banks' proximity to a big street which the robbers can use to disappear fast ... whether the robbers' previous procedure can be transferred to other banks ... how safe the banks are - are there night watchmen? - and how much they can steal in one -"

Don raised a hand and Charlie broke off. Don rubbed his eyes tiredly, putting the coffee cup aside. He should go home, eat something and then sleep. And he should take his brother home, before their father complained about him missing dinner. A strange thought, if one considered that Charlie would be thirty-one soon. Sometimes, Don thought that neither Charlie nor his father could leave the house behind in which their mother and wife had died.

Last year, Alan had been absolutely determined to sell the house, but Charlie had bought it, just so that he wouldn't have to leave it. And Alan had never mentioned moving out himself again. If Don was honest, he didn't want to let go of the house, either. He had lived in his apartment for years, now, but there were still cartons waiting to be unpacked in his guest-room. He had dinner at the house with his father and brother more often than in his own apartment.

Charlie's quiet voice broke into his thoughts. "David mentioned, that you found a message addressed to you. Maybe this is something personal -"

Don registered the worry that was evident in brother's voice, and heard the words that weren't spoken as well. He wanted to put his brother's fears to rest.

"I don't think so," Don said. "The message was provocative. They regard themselves as smarter than we are and want to prove it. Plus, they couldn't have known that I'd be the one to investigate the bank robberies. If it were something personal, they would've addressed them to me from the beginning." Don looked out into the nearly-empty bull pen and yawned. "We should call it a night."

Charlie looked at his watch. "I wanted to leave now, anyway. Dad's waiting with dinner."

"What's on the menu?"

"Steaks."

Don clapped his hands, suddenly wide awake again. Awake enough to eat his father's steaks.

"I'm in."

XXX

A late dinner ensured that Don would have to answer nature's call in the dead of night. As he slipped out of the bathroom, he noticed that there was a light still on downstairs. More curious than anything, he started down the steps.

One of the new lamps that had recently been added to the living area spilled over the youngest member of the Eppes clan. Charlie lay against the leather couch, his laptop balanced precariously on his belly. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest suggested that he wasn't doing a lot of computing at the moment, but his screen saver had yet to kick in, so he couldn't have been out for long. With a gentle laugh, Don rescued the computer from its resting place.

"Don't, I'm still working," his brother mumbled sleepily, sitting up.

"You should go to sleep," Don replied, putting the laptop on the coffee table.

"No. No way. It's just ... this project Larry's working on. I've spent the last three nights writing the formulas he's needing."

Sometimes Don wondered why Charlie's colleague didn't do his calculations himself. A discussion which flared up between Charlie and Amita again and again, too. Charlie seemed to be able to read thoughts. "He's a brilliant physicist but his calculations ... he's insecure."

Don snapped the computer shut. "You really should go to sleep." He looked at Charlie with his hands on his hips.

His brother yawned, brushing through his dark locks, then he got up. "You're right." He pulled his cell from his jeans pocket and glanced at it. "Amita sent a SMS - ten minutes ago." Don rolled his eyes. If Charlie and Amita should ever become a couple and found a family, their children would be night active, workaholics and dangerously intelligent. Then, Don could only hope that they stood on the right side of the law. Charlie read through the message and then looked up to Don. "She wants to come into the FBI with me and talk to you tomorrow. She apparently knows which files the hacker accessed."

"Sounds good," Don nodded.

XXX

"Hey, professor!" Colby called, getting up from his chair. He approached Charlie and Amita who were headed for the conference room armed with papers, maps and laptops. He stopped before them and took Amita's laptop from her. "Hello," he smiled.

She grinned at him. "Hi."

Charlie cleared his throat loudly and Colby turned towards him, a caught expression on his face. "I wanted to apologize to you, because of yesterday. You were right about the storerooms."

Charlie shrugged. "No problem. You weren't the first or the most critical sceptic I've had."

Colby sighed in relief. "Great, professor, I just wanted … it wasn't meant to be personal."

Charlie nodded in understanding. "Call me Charlie."

The agent smiled. "Colby."

Charlie continued, "This is my colleague Amita Ramanujan."

Colby turned towards the pretty young woman again. He grinned charmingly, "Amita." She smiled back. Charlie frowned.

Don broke the tense silence by putting a hand on his younger colleague's shoulder and steering him toward the conference room. "Don't even think about it. She's much smarter than you."

Charlie looked darkly after him while Amita addressed Don. She nodded toward the conference room. "In there?"

Don smiled at her, nodding, and Amita went to prepare. Don put a hand on Charlie's shoulder and followed her with his brother a little more slowly. As soon as she was out of hearing range, he said, "You got to act soon, man. Women like her don't stay single forever."

Charlie nodded, overtaxed. "I know. I … know."

"You're lucky," Don continued when they were almost there. "She's really waiting for you." Without giving Charlie a chance to answer, he joined Amita and his team. Charlie sighed, following him.

XXX

Amita crossed her arms, explaining, "Therefore, I've found out that he used a vulnerability scanner first. You can search for weak points in computers and systems with it and detect how you can infiltrate them. Then, he hacked in, getting access to internal e-mails, data and the camera system. With a sniffer he was able to find out the password for the entrance doors. In addition the one to the safe. When they were ready to strike, he hacked into the system again, turning the cameras off. They went in, they stole, and they came out." Amita shrugged. "Easy, really." Colby didn't want to admit that he'd understood only half of what the young woman had explained, therefore, he remained silent.

David put one arm on the table to support his head with his hand. "How did they know which lockers they wanted to clear out? They've taken only those of the richest customers."

Amita nodded. "The locker occupancies probably were compared with the bank balances of the customers. I've done that, too. They've robbed the lockers of people whose bank balances were over 20,000 dollars. VIPs, managers ... company founders. People you read about in every economy magazine or in the rainbow press," Amita answered.

Colby added, "The richer the customer, the higher the chance of valuable jewellery and things like that."

Don asked, "Did that hacker leave a … virtual fingerprint?"

Amita sighed and looked to Charlie who nodded at her. She admitted, "He's good ... damned good. Better than me. He used a Rootkit. Hackers blur their traces with that. And his is particularly good."

Megan frowned thoughtfully, "There's got to be somebody in our files who's been arrested for hacking before. Hackers don't just go out and give it a first try with a bank. They test their abilities and increase them in time."

Don answered, "I think so. But we don't have any reference to the identity of the hacker, right?" Amita shook her head. "How many will there be in America ... thousands? That doesn't help us." Finished with her part of the explanation, Amita sat down.

Charlie got up. "I've gone through all banks and their branches in L.A. and have calculated which could be the robbers' next target. I've prepared a list of those banks and how high the probability is that they are the next. The _Bank of America_ on Jefferson Boulevard has got the highest value. And they'll strike soon. I couldn't calculate exactly when, though, since they act so irregularly."

David suggested: "We could place teams in front of Charlie's top three."

Megan nodded. "Sounds good."

Don got up. "Let's get to it."

XXX

At night, the Ocean Front Walk was nearly deserted. Don didn't let his mind relax completely, though. _Pinnacle Investment Bank_ was a worthy target for the robbers and one of Charlie's top three. Don cleared his throat. "So, you and Amita?" He could concentrate on his surroundings and the street without problems while carrying on a conversation. He'd learned to do it during his days with Fugitive Recovery. He might have hated the job, but he'd learned a lot.

Charlie glanced at him, slightly irritated. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I'm bored. You wanted to come with me. I want to know."

Charlie rolled his eyes. "But I don't want to talk about it."

"You're afraid to ask her out," Don deduced.

"And if I am?" Charlie asked defiantly. Don watched a man and a woman who stopped in front of the bank. They said goodbye with a kiss and the man went on while the woman stopped a cab and left.

"You know, dad's waiting for grandkids."

"Well, then it's time that you get married and fulfilled his wish," Charlie said. Don laughed. Then he sighed, getting bored again, and looked at his watch. It was getting late and only a few people passed by the bank. Don's car stood outside a street lamp's range of light, so that shadows of overhanging palm branches covered the two passengers, the trees separating the street from the sidewalk. Occasional joggers ran towards the coast, couples went past them. Street lamps shone at regular intervals, but there were still more than enough hiding places in the darkness between. Three hours earlier, Don and Charlie had taken over surveillance from Colby and David. The two agents would come back the next morning and relieve the brothers of their duty. Megan remained at the head office, coordinating the surveillance teams as well as passing on observations. Charlie folded his arms, pressing his back into the passenger seat. "It's getting cold."

"Yeah," Don answered. "No parking heater. We can't stand out." Charlie grimaced morosely. Don smiled. "Not as exciting as you thought it'd be, huh?"

Charlie shrugged. "I was just curious," he answered.

Don reached backwards into the back seat and got one of the blankets lying there. "Here," he said, handing it to his brother. "I've also packed hot coffee and sandwiches. Everything we need."

"Wow!" Charlie answered, covering himself with the blanket, "you've really done this a lot, huh?"

"In Fugitive Recovery, it comes with the job."

Charlie nodded in understanding.

XXX

Justin Finchley stopped next to the big, leased Jeep, in which Connor Hill was sitting, and got in on the passenger seat. He was a little breathless from his jogging on Ocean Front Walk, wiping perspiration from his forehead with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. "Two," he finally panted. "It's actually Eppes, the guy from the news," he then continued a little calmer, accepting the water bottle which Connor handed him. "There seem to be no other agents nearby."

Connor looked outside thoughtfully. "Who's with him? Colby, Reeves or Sinclair?"

"Try again."

Connor seemed surprised. Then, he turned to face Kenny Jacobson who was sitting with his laptop on the backseat. Connor asked: "Did you miss a team member?"

Kenny immediately shook his head. "No. Eppes' team consists of Colby, Reeves and Sinclair. Nobody else." He turned the laptop in the direction of the two older men and indicated the user interface of the internal FBI database. "Look for yourself."

Connor shook his head. "Not necessary." He trusted the boy. Kenny was only 22, but an exceptional hacker. It was as good as impossible that he missed something. Connor thought for a moment, keeping an eye on the FBI agent's car a couple of vehicles away. "An agent assigned from another team," he said.

Justin laughed. "This one doesn't look like an agent, if you ask me. Long hair, skinny, not very athletic. He looks like a wuss!" In the back, Kenny winced, ducking his head.

Connor seemed thoughtful for a moment. "What about civilian consultants?" he then asked. "The FBI's using them." Kenny was already tapping away on the keyboard of his laptop. It lasted for only half a minute, then the young man handed the laptop to Justin.

Justin and Connor went through the data base file by file. Justin focused on the pictures, hesitating at some of them, but he didn't seem to find the man. Then, he suddenly went three file entries back. "Him," he said with conviction, indicating the photo.

Connor glanced at the name and smiled evilly. "Charles Eppes. Well, what a surprise."

Justin was stunned. "That guy's his brother?"

Connor answered: "Looks that way." He set the laptop on his lap and read through Charlie's file. "Interesting," he mumbled.

"What?" Kenny asked curiously, leaning forward to try to get a look at the screen over Connor's shoulder. A few strands of his brown hair fell into his forehead and he brushed it aside, irritated. He had to go to the hairdresser soon.

"Mathematician," Connor answered thoughtfully. "Did a lot of consulting for the FBI."

Justin snorted. "So?"

Connor glanced at him angrily, then he said: "Nothing."

Justin narrowed his brown eyes in distrust. "No, there's something going through your head."

"Don't ask," Connor answered. "I just thought that it's interesting."


	5. Chapter 5

**4.**

When Don entered his familial home, he always felt more comfortable than his own apartment. He'd told Charlie once that the base of his life was the FBI head office. What he hadn't said was that his private life's base was the big property which belonged to his brother now. When he'd moved back to L.A. from Albuquerque, he'd gotten used to eating three or four times a week there. After his mother's death, it had been difficult to come to the home that held so many memories. But Don had done it because he knew it was what his father and Charlie, and maybe even he himself, needed. Over a year later, the pain of the loss had eased, but the comfort of being home remained. It was especially good when Don walked in to the smell of his father's cooking.

When he arrived at the house he found that Alan, Larry, Amita, Charlie, and the baby he had seen a few days ago with his brother were present.

After dinner, Alan leaned over and brushed through Shanti's dark curls. He said: "It's nice to have children in the house again."

Don rolled his brown eyes. "It's not too late for Charlie and me, yet, Dad."

Amita laughed.

Alan took Shanti from the high chair which he had found in the attic and sat her on his lap with an ease that came from raising two children. "But it could be too late for me soon. Whenever you want to come over with her, Amita, I'd be happy to babysit."

Amita shrugged, a sad little smile gracing her lips. "My cousin will be back from India next week to pick her up. I've gotten so used to her being around."

Charlie and Amita's colleague Larry Fleinhardt set his elbows next to his plate on the table and crossed his fingers. Don compared him with Yoda. He was always quiet and prudent. Unless he was irritated. Then, he started to stutter, tending to nervous gestures which could be dangerous for everyone standing near him. Don would've never befriended a man like Larry.

But he was a friend of his brother - the only ally Charlie had in the early years of his academic career - and Don respected him for his loyalty to Charlie. And Larry had helped the FBI, on several cases as well.

Larry looked at Amita with thoughtful eyes now. "Do I hear a slight longing for children of your own there?"

Amita looked at him across the dining table. "Yeah," she answered hesitantly. "I think so." At Larry's raised eyebrows, Amita hurried to add, "Not now, but maybe some time in the future." She stroked Shanti's cheek.

Don looked at Charlie who thoughtfully stared at Amita. He gave him a slight push to the side and Charlie turned to look at him. Don raised his eyebrows, nodding in Amita's direction. Charlie shook his head. Don gave him a harder push. Charlie pushed back.

Alan interrupted them. "Boys." He got up from the table and stared down at them. "And you claim to be adult men? Clear the table and do the dishes." That said, he stalked out with Shanti on his arm into the living room. Amita followed him with an amused grin on her lips.

Larry shrugged. "I could help."

Don shook his head. "No, that's okay."

Charlie nodded, getting up to clear the table. "Dad has punished us with the dishes since we learned to walk." He cast a meaningful look at Don, as if a topic often discussed was now coming. "You'll wash the dishes, I'll dry them."

Don was outraged. "No way. I'll dry the dishes."

Larry took this as a sign to follow the others to the living room.

XXX

Charlie won by drawing the longer straw. When he and Don had already done half the dishes, he looked at his brother curiously. "Is there any news from the surveillance teams?" Don would soon drive over to the _Bank of America_ on Jefferson. Charlie preferred to stay at home this time. Instead, Megan would accompany Don.

"No. Nothing suspicious. Of course, they could've been there and we just didn't see them because of the people passing by the bank during the day."

Charlie nodded thoughtfully. "I've rechecked the math. It's one of these three banks. Probably the _Bank of America_ on Jefferson. You're sure that they're just taunting you?"

Don nodded. "It's nothing personal, Charlie."

"Well, then it's purely about the money. What do they need it for?"

"Greed," Don answered.

"Illegal deals," Charlie replied.

"A new life."

"Weapons."

Don drained the sink. "Whatever they need it for, they've got ten million already."

"Will they even need more?"

"Let's hope so," Don answered and, when Charlie threw him a surprised glance, he explained: "Well, we don't get them otherwise. Our only chance is a new robbery."

Charlie crossed his arms. "Or the planning phase. Perhaps you'll catch them while they're scouting out the area."

"Perhaps not," Don answered. "We're prepared to go in during a robbery." Charlie nodded in understanding, his face worried. Despite the number of years that his brother had worked with the FBI, Charlie still had a hard time with the more violent aspect of Don's job.

XXX

_Don didn't know why he was even still trying. "No sandwich?" he asked, holding the plate in Charlie's direction. Charlie cast a quick look at him, and then he shook his head, pulled the sleeve of his sweatshirt over his hand and wiped a sequence of numbers off the black board. A sponge lay unused on the upper edge of the board. _

_Don was doing his father a favour by being here in the garage. The rest wasn't his problem; he had enough to worry about, but the angry words came anyway. "If you want to starve, it's your problem, got it? But Dad feels absolutely rotten and I think you should show a little consideration. His wife died last week. Your mother, just in case you don't remember her." _

_Charlie stopped only briefly, and then he wrote on – the shock value of the words having no effect in the face of his math._

_Don snorted in disgust, slamming the plate loudly down on the desk, pretending not to notice the way Charlie jumped. He kept on writing anyway, oblivious to the uncomfortably cool air and the untidy mess that surrounded him. _

_Don just didn't get Charlie. He glanced at the screen of the laptop, the opened books and the innumerable papers on the desk. A piece of chalk was lying on one of the books and Don took it into his hand, played with it to calm down. He turned around to face his brother - who kept writing numbers on the board - and he wanted to strangle him._

"_It may be that mom's death means nothing to you. But to me, it does." He stepped next to Charlie. "And to dad, too. And the only thing you've been interested in in the past three months is what? Numbers. Mom died and it's more important to you ..." Don broke off, because Charlie didn't seem to hear him. Don flung the chalk in his brother's direction and when there still wasn't any reaction, he grabbed Charlie's collar and turned him around to face him. "You ungrateful, little jerk! She did everything for you! Absolutely everything! And you don't even care."_

_Charlie stared at him, as if he was seeing Don for the very first time. "I do," he whispered._

"_So, you're in here, because these damn numbers are more important." _

"_P versus NP," Charlie answered softly._

"_What?" Don asked._

"_It's P versus NP. An unsolvable problem."_

_Don let Charlie go, who, surprised, stumbled back and fell to the floor._

"_Unsolvable?" Don asked with a dangerous edge to his voice. "It's unsolvable ... why the hell do you prefer it to mom or dad?" He heard the garage door opening and realized that his father must have heard their argument. "I don't understand you."_

_Alan's voice was low, but firm. "Don." _

_But Don was far too upset to stop now. "You're dead to me." He turned away, leaving the garage. The door slammed loudly behind him ..._

… Don startled awake.

"Sorry," Charlie mumbled, standing at the patio door, looking at him questioningly. "Why are you sleeping in the living room?"

Don supported his head in his hands and ran a hand through his brown hair. "I must have fallen asleep," he mumbled. The TV screen was dark. "Dad must have shut off the TV." He looked at his watch. "Nearly midnight. I've got to leave to take over surveillance from Colby and David. What were you doing in the garden?"

"Thinking," Charlie answered. "Sometimes, fresh air helps." Don nodded, rubbing his eyes. "Bad dream?" Charlie asked.

"Bad memory," Don answered with a fake smile, getting up.

"Am I allowed to ask?" Charlie wanted to know, his expression concerned.

Don shook his head. "No. Not really." The words seemed to hurt Charlie and Don looked to the floor. "I need to deal with it on my own." He hadn't thought of this argument in months. At least, Charlie had erased the numbers on the boards shortly after the argument and had returned to life. It took Alan months to convince Don to sit at the same table as Charlie again. And a couple of months more, before Don had asked Charlie's help on a share deceit case. Since then, it was gradually getting better between them. The last year had been especially good. Now, Don knew that P versus NP was a stress reaction. Since the death of his mother, he'd seen Charlie in this condition one more time. But they'd never talked about it. Don had never apologized, either. Charlie had accepted his behaviour, as he always did with Don. He accepted everything, as long as he could be near to his brother in return. Charlie smiled at Don and then went upstairs. Don looked after him thoughtfully. Fact was that Charlie shouldn't accept it.

XXX

David sipped at his coffee while Colby was looking for a new radio station. The car which the agents used for surveillance stood directly opposite the _Bank of America_ on Jefferson. It had been very quiet until now. Nobody had been able to catch the robbers scouting out the area. There hadn't been a new hit, either. The area was ready to be cut off at any time by the police. The night was clear and quiet. David noticed with a glance at his watch that Don and Megan would be there to relieve them, soon.

"You know, what I'm going to do?" Colby asked and David looked at him curiously. The two men had gotten to know each other very well during these surveillances and built a friendship which also went beyond work. "I'll ask Amita out," Colby said.

David shook his head, grinning. "She's out of your league, man."

"I'm into smart women."

"Me too. But we're not talking smart, Colby, we're talking super-smart."

Colby shrugged. "Doesn't intimidate me." He grinned at David. "You?"

David shook his head. "Just don't do it."

"Why?" Colby asked.

David sighed. "Because she's, like, with someone," he said.

"She's got a boyfriend?"

"Not yet," David answered. "Hopefully soon."

Colby found a good station and leant back in his seat, thinking about David's words. "Charlie?" he then asked doubtingly. David nodded. "You're kidding me," Colby added.

"I've been watching them for a year now … believe me, there's sparkage. And not only on Charlie's side. You don't stand a chance."

Colby sighed in defeat. "Damn." Their chat was interrupted by a police siren. "What the hell -" Colby started and then got out of the car when several squad cars stopped in front of the bank, their tires screeching. The officers got out, entering the building with drawn weapons.

David had gotten out of the car, too. "What's going on?" One of the officers – the unit's leader – turned around to face them. "The silent alarm went off a few minutes ago."

"What?" Colby asked , stunned. "We didn't see anybody entering." The officer raised his eyebrow, as if he was sure that the fault wasn't his.

One of his officers came back out, running to his boss. "The safe's been opened. The contents of at least ten safe deposit boxes are missing." Colby and David stared at each other.

"Well, shit ," Colby mumbled.


	6. Chapter 6

**5.**

"How did this happen?" Don asked furiously, looking round in the safe in which the safe deposit boxes of the bank were situated. Some were open - torn out of the hinges by pure force - their values had disappeared, worthless things like papers lying scattered on the ground. Money was also missing - one million. Colby crossed his arms, looking guilty, while David was shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. Forensics was looking for finger prints on the boxes, while Megan was standing next to Don, her hands in her trouser pockets.

David sighed. "We didn't see anybody."

A young woman dressed in a LAPD jacket stepped up to the three agents. "Agent Eppes, I'm Charlene Walters from Forensics. We know how they got in." Don looked at her curiously. "There's an entryway to the basement of the house next to this in the cellar. I think the two properties were once one. The lock's broken. They went through the basement of the neighbours into a backstreet and from there; they took to the city's sewerage system."

Don rubbed his forehead. A headache was making itself known. "They got away under the streets?"

The young woman nodded. "Yes."

Don sighed. "Great." He turned to Colby. "Call the roadblocks. Tell them what we know. They need to search the area's sewerage system." Colby nodded and left. "But I think we're already too late," Don added.

David nodded in consent. "They're already home by now."

Don shook his head. "Laughing at us."

David couldn't suppress a sarcastic smile. "Looks like Heisenberg kicked our asses on this one."

"What?" Don asked, puzzled.

"Heisenberg's uncertainty principle," David answered as if he'd written a thesis on the subject. "Watch an object and it changes its behaviour. Charlie explained it to us, remember?" Don looked at him as if David had grown a second head. "Hey," David said, "I listen to Charlie. He's almost always right."

Don cleared his throat, before turning back to Charlene. "Are you sure they escaped via the sewerage system?"

Charlene nodded. "The access was used recently and … we found a few bucks down there." She held up five evidence bags in which she'd packed the bills. "I think those guys left them behind on purpose. Check it out." She gave one of the bags to Don. Again, a message was scribbled on the bill. Don shuddered, as he read it.

_You're cheating, Agent Eppes. I thought you'd be clever enough to get me on your own. Does your little brother always solve your cases?_

XXX

"I've spoken to no one about the case," Charlie promised, looking at Don insistently. "I swear." His brother ran an agitated hand through his dark hair, turning away from Charlie. His gaze wandered through the chaotic office to Larry and Amita who were sitting on two chairs, following the conversation. Amita had put the sleeping Shanti into her buggy and frowned thoughtfully.

Don sighed, trying to let the concern over the assumption go, which had driven him here. "You sure?" he repeated his question.

Charlie nodded. "Except of course Amita and Larry."

Larry spoke up. "And we didn't tell anyone, either."

He seemed almost insulted at Don's assumption that he and Amita would tell anyone what they did for the FBI. Don shook his head, massaging his neck with a hand. "Well - how do they know that you're helping, then?" he asked.

Charlie shrugged. "Maybe they've seen us together and researched."

"Data about our agents and our civilian consultants are safe."

Charlie raised his eyebrows. "Alarm codes for bank entrance doors are, too … the robbers have got a hacker in their midst, don't forget that."

Amita nodded in affirmation. "A genius."

As if that would help Don's agitation … he shook his head. "No one hacks into the FBI. Never happens."

A smile twitched on Larry's lips. "Don't say that. The word 'never' is overestimated."

Amita got up. "I need to go bring Shanti home. We visit her toddler group in the afternoon and I've got to bathe her."

The three men said goodbye and then Don turned back to his brother. "I'll be honest, Charlie, the message worries me. I'd like to assign an agent to you."

Charlie shook his head vehemently. He hated it when Don thought that he needed a babysitter. "That's not necessary. Don, you told me yourself, they just want to challenge you." He looked at his watch and gasped in surprise. "Damn it, I'm already too late." He collected his papers and shoved them in his bag. "Don't worry about me, okay?" He searched for and found his keys. "I'll tell you tonight where they'll hit next. Come over and we'll talk about it." With that, he left. Don rubbed his forehead, wishing for aspirin.

Larry was supporting his head on a hand, looking thoughtfully at Don. "Do you think that Charles is in danger?"

Don shrugged. "I don't know. Megan says that they just want to get to me, too. They think they're invincible."

Larry sighed in sympathy. "How foolish."

XXX

Connor pressed himself against the wall of the corridor in CalSci, pretending to read the book in his hands, while the two brothers were going past him. Connor glanced at them. The agent seemed very watchful, while his brother was focused on some papers. The big bag that hung around his shoulders didn't seem to hinder his progress, though it seemed to be quite heavy.

"You sure?" the agent was asking.

The professor nodded. "Absolutely. I've calculated everything twice and did …" They disappeared around the corner. Connor was tempted to follow them, but he snapped the book shut, going in the direction the two had come from, instead. He stopped in front of a door. Charlie's name was resplendent on the glass, under this a piece of paper was taped with office hours. Connor looked round. He saw nobody. Most professors and students had probably already gone home.

He fetched his lock picks from the bag and briefly tested whether the door was locked before he broke in. He closed the door, left the lights out, only switching on a small flashlight instead while he was looking around at the chaos. "Jesus Christ," he muttered. "What is it with geniuses and disorder?" Kenny was just as sloppy. It had driven Connor mad while they'd shared a cell in prison.

After hesitating for a moment, looking around some more, Connor approached the black board on which there were hastily written numbers and some complex calculus. "Hm," Connor mumbled, illuminating the names on the edge of the board next to the equations. Names of banks. Ten altogether, the topmost three framed. Connor concentrated on the first name. "_Bank of America_, Pasadena," he muttered. "Unbelievable." That was their next target. The one, they were going to hit tonight. They planned the robberies irregularly, so they wouldn't become predictable and therefore, they wanted to hit today after yesterday's attack. It looked as if they were predictable anyway. Now, that Connor knew, they could prepare themselves for the feds. Maybe, tonight was the last hit. Because maybe Charlie Eppes could help them to get even more money than they'd ever be able to rob.

XXX

"It's very courageous to do the robbery here," Don said, looking for a parking space in the quiet neighbourhood surrounding Wilson Avenue where the smallest _Bank of America_ branch was situated. "There aren't many people around. Not as many as in the city. The neighbours would recognize strangers scouting out the area immediately." Charlie only glanced briefly around, and then refocused on his laptop. "So, a neighbourhood like this one – it has to have minus points in your calculation, right?" Don asked.

Charlie nodded. "Yeah. But this is the most probable next target, either way." Don stopped across from the bank and cut the engine. Some small shops lined the street next to the branch office, the residential buildings lying peacefully in the dark and in direct proximity. The stores were closed; nobody was out - not even teenagers. This neighbourhood was mostly populated by senior citizens and young families.

The street lamps were illuminating the sidewalks. "All right," Don said, watching David and Colby leave their parking space and drive off. Don's cell rang. He knew that it could only be one of the other two agents. They always called each other after the change of shifts.

"_We've seen nothing,"_ David said. _"The bakery was supplied, but that was it." _

"Tell Megan," Don answered. She shared the shifts in the FBI head office with another agent, passing information on and supervising the teams.

David sounded clearly confused. _"Because a bakery in Pasadena received some flour?"_

"Well, we're desperate," Don answered. He ended the call. Charlie had snapped the laptop shut and leant back in the car seat. Don looked at him. "So, why did you want to come with me? I thought you found it so boring the last time."

Charlie shrugged. "Just couldn't sleep."

Don laughed, turning around to root around in the back seat. He was looking for the sandwiches their father had wrapped up for them. "So you'd rather be sitting in a cold car in the middle of the night watching an empty street?"

"And that delivery to the bakery," Charlie answered. "Those shops are practically open twenty-four hours a day, Don. At night, they bake and -"

"Shh!" Don hissed, looking through the windshield over to the white van which was parked a couple of feet away from them in front of the bakery. He reached for his cell.

Charlie noticed that Don was getting excited. "What's going on?"

He didn't know why he was even whispering, but Don answered just as quietly. "The bakery's already been supplied." David answered. "They're here," Don said.

His colleague was stunned. _"What?"_

"Just arrived," Don answered.

"_Call in reinforcements, Don, we're turning …"_

The connection broke up. "David?" Don asked. He looked at his display; however, he couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. "David?"

"What's up?" Charlie asked.

"The connection broke up." Don reached for the radio equipment, pressing the send button; however, the loud white noise stopped him from trying. Charlie looked at him questioningly. "Dead," Don mumbled. He watched four men walking towards the bank, carrying bags. "They're disturbing the radio. That's easy. Just a few interferences and … but how do they disturb my cell?"

Charlie swallowed, nervous. "I think they used a portable cell jammer to disturb the signal."

The four men gathered around the control panel at the door where employees had to enter the code to get into the bank outside the opening hours. They needed just a couple of seconds, and then the doors opened. "Shit. They're in," Don said, getting out of the car. In that moment, Colby stopped beside them and David jumped out of the car. They had to have turned around immediately to be back so soon. Don put his useless cell in his pocket. David waited until his supervisor stood beside the car.

"Sorry, there's something wrong with my cell."

"Yeah, the radio's also dead. Charlie thinks that they've got a cell jammer," Don said.

David grimaced. "We're alone, then? What's the plan?"

"They're four of them and we're …" Don turned to face his brother, who'd also gotten out of the car and was watching the bank across the street. "Damn." He hadn't thought of Charlie. The thought that his brother could get caught in the crossfire hadn't come to him at all.

Colby had already opened the trunk of his SUV, handing David a Kevlar vest. He looked at Don attentively. "We're going in, right?" he asked.

Don opened his trunk, too, taking out two vests which were stashed there for emergencies. "This is our chance. We'll wait outside for them – in front of the entrance." He went to Charlie and pulled the vest over his head, tightening it until it fit. Colby and David equipped themselves with MP5s and magazines. Don would have liked to leave one of them behind for Charlie's protection, but he thought that they only had a real chance against the four robbers when the three of them surprised them. He needed every man he could get. "You're staying here," Don said to his brother, letting him see that he was serious. He opened the back door of the car and let Charlie get in. Then, he pushed him on the ground behind the passenger seat. "Don't move."

Charlie looked up to him, nervous. "Okay."

Don raised his index finger. "I mean it, Charlie. You're not leaving this car." He slammed the door shut. "Let's go," he said to his colleagues, taking the larger calibre out of the car which was stashed securely in the trunk for emergencies. Charlie crouched down behind the passenger seat, hoping that the doors of the SUV were solid - then he prayed that he didn't have to find out.

XXX

Connor dropped the night vision goggles from his eyes. "They want to surprise us at the entrance," he said.

Steve, standing directly next to him, snorted in disgust. "Those feds. They're all the same."

"It's just the three of them," Connor said. "There won't be any reinforcements." Kenny was to blame for that. It had been his idea to get a cell jammer and Brian had known where to get one on short notice. Connor had cut off the radio.

Steve grinned in triumph. "They don't stand a chance."

"Yeah," Connor said, stepping away from the window, "but Justin should hurry up with the safe, though." They walked through the small business area by passing an inconspicuous wood door, which led directly to a couple of offices, the kitchen and the toilets - in addition it led to the safe and the safe deposit boxes. Kenny looked nervously to Connor and Steve when they joined them. Justin leant against the safe. Connor couldn't see exactly what he was doing, but he trusted him. Justin had robbed 13 banks before he'd landed in prison. When Connor had gotten to know him there, they had decided to carry out these robberies together as soon as they were free again.

Kenny pulled a list with safe deposit box numbers out of his pocket. "We could still break into them."

"No," Connor answered. "We play it safe. Maybe they've found another way to call for reinforcements."

Justin laughed out loud, opening the safe's door. He looked at his watch, shaking his head in pity: "4 minutes and 23 seconds. Not my best." Connor, Kenny and Steve didn't listen. They were already engaged in stuffing money into the sports bags.

"We'll leave through the side exit," Connor decided.

Justin had his doubts. "You think that they're that dumb? They're going to watch that door, too."

"They are only three agents. They can see our car from the main entrance. I think that's good enough for them." Connor looked at his watch. "Let's go."

XXX

Charlie decided that his plan was good and he left the car door open after he'd gotten out, ducking next to the cars. He'd stay out of view. Five cars were standing between him and the van. His brother wouldn't be able to see that Charlie didn't listen to him. But he decided to apologize later, either way. He'd thought hard about this for a couple of minutes and finally found a way to help Don out. He opened the front passenger door and then the glove compartment. Don's pocket-knife lay under empty chewing gum papers and the license for his service weapon. Charlie had found it there when he'd dug through the glove compartment out of boredom during the last surveillance. Charlie crept toward the robber's car, crouching down the whole time. Nobody would notice that he wasn't in the car anymore. The robbers and the three agents were busy on the other side of the street. It was probably even the best solution to cut the tires open, in case the robbers could make it past the agents.

He arrived at the white van and pulled out the blade of the knife. A glance around the car showed him that the situation hadn't changed. Don, David and Colby were holding their positions in front of the bank, the robbers were still inside. Somebody grabbed his neck, slamming his head against the shock absorber. "What do you think you're doing, you little punk?" a man hissed furiously, trying to wrestle the knife from him. A fifth bank robber. Charlie fought the black spots dancing in front of his eyes, hitting with his elbow backwards.

He caught the man in the stomach and the grip around his neck loosened as Don called out: "FBI! Don't move!" Charlie thought for a moment that his brother had noticed the attack on him, but then, shots were fired and he realized, that the robbers must have had left the bank. Charlie's attacker cursed softly, trying to hold onto him, but Charlie managed to tear himself away, pushing the knife into the back tire. He ran. At least he thought he did, but then he got dizzy, staggering on the asphalt between the van and the car standing behind it. Now, he was able to see Don, Colby and David, who'd taken cover in the entrance way of the bank, shooting at the four robbers who'd come from the side entrance and were using a low wall at the building's corner as a cover. Three of the robbers shot back, the fourth one was crouching down on the ground in obvious fear. Till now, the robbers had never been forced to shoot - now it showed how well they were equipped. Charlie had to get back to the car. It had been stupid to leave it at all.

He scrambled to his feet and wanted to go back, but a mountain of man stood in his way. Completely unimpressed by the shoot-out going down across the street, he grabbed Charlie's arm. "Little bastard," he mumbled. Charlie tried to cut his arm with the knife, but the man held his wrist, wrenching the knife from his fingers. He seized Charlie's vest at the shoulders, pulling him towards his chest, so that the young man was only standing on his toes. "Too bad that I don't have time for this, pretty boy." He pushed Charlie away who stumbled towards the middle of the street and fell. Don froze at the sight while the fifth bank robber hurried around the van and got in. Don saw Charlie trying to stand up. He instinctively made himself ready to run toward his brother and pull him to safety ... he would strangle him personally later. David and Colby seemed to know what he was planning and were laying down cover fire.

Don ran, making it only two steps farther before a sharp pain drilled into his right thigh. He stumbled back into safety. "Stay down! Charlie, stay down!" he yelled over the sound of weapons firing. His brother obeyed, pressing his body to the asphalt, staring anxiously over to Don. "Shit," Don muttered.

Colby glanced at the wound. "Don?"

"A graze. It's just a graze," he answered.

David jammed a new round into his weapon and supported it against his shoulder. "They're going to make a run for it."

Don cursed. "They'll be heading directly for Charlie." He fired on the robbers, as one of them made an escape attempt, shooing the man back behind the wall. Don's magazine was getting emptier by the minute. "We need reinforcements," he said tensely and then shot at the robbers again. Who were suddenly strengthening their attack, forcing the agents back into the bank's entrance way. And then one of the robbers ran across the street and threw himself between the parked cars, before he opened the side door of the van. "They're running," Don mumbled. The second robber tried to run across the street but Don placed some well-aimed bullets in front of his feet and the man stumbled backwards. Then the inevitable moment came in which he pressed the trigger and nothing happened. Colby put his weapon away. David was the last one of them who still had bullets left. Don looked to his brother who was lying in the street, his arms over his head as if they could protect him. Fortunately the robbers didn't seem to be interested in him. But shots were still fired and Don was afraid that Charlie could be hit. Of course the robbers noticed that only one agent was shooting at them now and they took advantage. They strengthened their fire and David had to take cover. Colby saw the next robber running when the hail of bullets got stronger against the three agents. Police sirens sounded. Don sighed in relief. The robbers hesitated only for a moment. Colby used it and ran.

"Colby!" he heard David calling but he ignored him. He ran parallel to the robber across the street, bullets hitting the ground besides him, and then the robbers seemed to deem it too risky to hit their own man and stopped firing. Colby saw the frightened look which the robber running beside him wore - _he's just a kid, just a kid!_, he thought, shocked - but Colby was not after him. He hardly stopped as he arrived at Charlie's position, yanking the surprised mathematician from the street by his vest, dragging him between the parked cars on the other side of the street. Charlie managed to gain his footing and staggered after him. They stumbled over the curb. Charlie fell on his back, Colby landed on top of him. The agent remained lying on Charlie for some breathless seconds, waiting for shots in his direction but nothing came. Instead, there were remote shots, a cry, wails of sirens, then tires squealed and the van raced past Colby and Charlie through one of the front yards and from there onto a side street.

A breathless silence hung over the street. Colby pushed to his knees. "Charlie?" The young man didn't react and Colby tried to raise his head. His hand came back stained with blood. "I need an ambulance!" he yelled. Don limped toward him, David stood in front of the bank, staring at the street. Colby saw one of the robbers lying on the ground - he couldn't tell whether he was dead or injured.

Don fell to his knees beside his unconscious brother. "Charlie?" He touched his cheek and then the back of his head, applying pressure. His concerned eyes found Colby. "We underestimated those guys."


	7. Chapter 7

**6.**

While Don received treatment in the ER of the nearest hospital, Megan arrived to update him. "I talked to the doctors about the robber who was shot. He's in surgery. Doesn't look too promising." Don grimaced in pain when the young doctor started to bandage his leg. The shot had hit him just above the knee. Don would limp for a couple of days but he'd endured enough grazes to know that it was nothing more serious. He was considerably more worried about Charlie who was also still being treated.

"Do we know who he is, yet?" he asked.

Megan shook her head. "No ID. We're still waiting for the results of the fingerprints." She sighed, stressed. "Merrick had a raving fit. He was asking me how we could underestimate those guys."

Don ran a hand through his dark hair. "They jammed our radios. I think they overlapped all the frequencies and hoped that ours would be one of them. And they cut off our cell reception."

"Yeah, well, the techs agree that it was a portable cell jammer."

Don snorted. "And we were supposed to know that?" he asked. Sometimes his supervisor was an idiot. Too focused on making a good impression in front of his own bosses.

"I told him the same."

The doctor got up. "Alright, Agent Eppes, just don't overdo it in the next few days and you'll be as good as new." Don nodded at her gratefully and she turned to go. Don rubbed his forehead, glancing at his watch. It was 3:20am.

"How's Charlie?" Megan asked.

Don got up. "He didn't regain consciousness on our way over here. The EMT said something about a concussion. They're still examining him. They can't say anything until he wakes up." He shoved the curtain around his cubicle aside, entering the busy ER. Light car accidents, brawls and victims of attacks waited for doctors, relatives or their prescription. Some of the curtains around the beds were closed while examinations were made. Doctors and nurses hurried from patient to patient. L.A. never slept. Colby and David stood near the entrance and talked.

"Charlie really did it tonight – risked his life," Megan said and Don put his hands on his hips.

Megan's words reminded him how furious he should be at Charlie. However, the worry over his younger brother was still stronger at the moment. "Believe me, I'll tell him." He recognized his father by the entrance and waved to him. Alan hurried over to him and Megan. He wore his old jeans with the frayed hems and a creased shirt. He probably had donned the first thing he could find. Don began to feel guilty because he'd called Alan with such bad news in the middle of the night.

"Don, what happened? Calling me at this time of night and telling me you're both in hospital! I thought this surveillance was supposed to be a cake walk."

"Well, Dad, it was."

Alan looked his son over. "Are you okay?"

"Just a graze," Don answered.

"And Charlie?" Alan asked.

XXX

"I'm perfectly fine. I want to leave," Charlie protested, but his doctor shook his head decidedly. He addressed Don and Alan who stood next to Charlie's bed.

"A slight concussion. We want to keep an eye on him. Your son will have to stay here until this afternoon."

"I've got classes. I have to teach at ten and at two," Charlie answered. Don glanced at him, a warning in his eyes.

The doctor's face was understanding but firm. "Dr. Eppes, you're on one of the best pain medications I know, believe me, or you wouldn't want to leave the hospital. Just try to avoid any stressful situations for the next few days. And you shouldn't watch television, listen to loud music and avoid direct sunlight. Concussions aren't a walk in the park. You'll be having extreme headaches over the next few days." Charlie closed his eyes, resigned. "I'm going to let you get some sleep now," the doctor said. He looked at Don and Alan. "Just a few minutes longer, then you should leave. It's four a.m., you can come back tomorrow after nine." Don nodded his thanks and the doctor left them alone.

"Don't worry about your classes, Charlie. I'll call Larry and Amita in the morning," Alan reassured his youngest son. Charlie nodded. Don put his hands on his hips, trying to suppress his rage, while Alan kept fussing over Charlie. "You need anything?"

"No, thanks, Dad. I think I should listen to the doctor and get some sleep."

Don laughed mockingly. "So, you're listening to the doctor?" Alan looked at him questioningly, while Charlie was avoiding Don's gaze, feeling guilty.

"What's going on here?" Alan asked.

He could always tell when his sons had argued. Don shook his head. "Dad, could you give us a moment? Just go and wait at the exit. I'll be with you in just a couple of minutes."

Alan narrowed his eyes. "I'd rather know what's going on."

"I'll tell you later," Don answered.

Alan crossed his arms stubbornly. "Tell me now."

Don rolled his eyes. "Charlie wouldn't be hurt now if he'd just listened to me and stayed in the car. Instead, he was playing agent during a shoot-out, risking his life."

Alan was shocked. "What?" He turned to face his youngest. "Charlie!"

"I'm sorry, okay? I thought I could help," Charlie answered.

"Help? By getting yourself killed?" Don asked incredulously.

"I didn't know there was a fifth robber waiting in the van."

"You should have entertained the possibility."

"Like you did?" Charlie retorted.

Don took a step backwards. Charlie had hit him where it hurt with that one.

None of the agents had thought about checking the van. A typical rookie mistake and they had made it. But he was right, damn it. "Charlie," he said, "There was a reason I left you in the car."

Don stared into Charlie's dark eyes until he gave a slow nod. "Okay." Charlie swallowed hard, fighting a wave of nausea. The painkillers were beginning to tire him out. "Colby's okay, right?"

"Yeah," Don answered.

"Good," Charlie said softly. "Sorry, Don."

The agent nodded. "It's okay." Alan decided to take command as Charlie's eyes drifted closed.

"We should get going. Charlie, I'll be back first thing in the morning, okay?" He pressed a kiss to Charlie's forehead.

"Okay," Charlie answered.

"See you, buddy," Don added, but Charlie was already asleep.

XXX

Don, Megan and Colby were already sitting at their desks when David arrived in the FBI office the next morning. He looked at his watch, surprised. "And here I was thinking that I'm too early," he said, sitting in his chair and powering up his computer.

"We just arrived here," Megan answered.

Don tiredly massaged his forehead. "Let's see what we've got, again." He hadn't slept well – only for an hour – then he had tossed and turned for an additional hour, before he'd driven over to his father's for breakfast and then to the office.

Megan, David and Colby didn't seem to be much more awake than him, but they seemed just as motivated.

Megan started first. "We've got five robberies, all in the middle of the night. In each bank, they hacked in, shut off the cameras and got in with the alarm codes. They avoid the cameras of the surrounding businesses, so we don't have an ID. What we know is that they drive a white van."

"But we arrested one of them. And yesterday, we really made a huge leap forwards in the investigations," Colby said.

"Yeah," Megan nodded, "but we still don't know who they are."

"I saw one of them," Colby told them. "It was just for a second and I can't describe him. But he was young – very young."

"What do you remember?" Don asked.

Colby shrugged, grimacing. "As I said. I can't say. I just saw him for a second when I was running to Charlie. But he was white, maybe 19 or 20 years old. Not noticeable. A kid."

Megan frowned. "What are those guys doing with a kid?"

"He was scared," Colby said. "That much was obvious."

Megan's cell rang and the three men were silent while she answered. "Reeves?" She listened, tucking her light brown hair behind her ears, then her eyes widened in surprise. "Really? That was fast." She listened again. "We're on our way." She disconnected, and then nodded at Don. "The robber we arrested yesterday – we can question him now. That was his doctor." Don took his jacket from his chair, glad that they'd be getting some answers now.

"Great. Megan, you're with me. Colby, call Forensics and ask them if they have ID'd him yet."

The younger man nodded, dialling his phone while Don and Megan hurried out of the office.

XXX

Charlie stared at the door in front of him, put his hand on the door handle and pushed. He rattled for a few seconds, before he accepted the fact that the door indeed was locked. "Dad?" he asked in confusion. He'd been released from hospital sooner than expected, had sworn to the doctor that he'd rest and promised his father that he wouldn't enter CalSci for one week and he'd even tried to follow the doctor's orders for half an hour. But his dark room with the drawn curtains had made it easier for his thoughts to form, flooding him with formulas and algorithms which could help with Don's case. Charlie wanted to write them down ... but the garage door was locked.

"You should be in bed," Alan spoke behind him with a strict voice.

"The door's locked," Charlie answered.

"Yeah," his father said and Charlie turned around to face him.

"Why?"

"Take a guess."

"But - but my black boards are in the garage. My notes on Don's case, Larry's project … everything."

"Exactly," Alan answered and turned around, heading back to the kitchen. "Go lay down. I'll bring you lunch in a minute." Thoughtfully, Charlie looked out the window into the garden. Maybe he could enter the garage through the door that connected it to the garden. Or through the big gate connected to the drive way. "All the doors are locked, Charlie!" Alan called as if he'd read Charlie's mind.

Charlie followed him into the kitchen and leant against the wall. The painkillers made him tired and slightly dizzy, however, he had to work on Don's case. He had to determine the next robbery. He had so much new data. "_Dad_," He complained.

"Charlie." His father didn't turn around to face him; instead he kept stirring the soup on the stove.

"I have work to do. Don needs-"

"At the moment, Don needs nothing from you, Charlie. Believe me. I'll tell him that if I have to. You need rest. You're overdoing it already when you're healthy." Alan turned and faced Charlie, hands on his hips.

"I'll stop when it gets worse," Charlie promised.

"Now, where did I hear that before?" Alan asked, before he snapped his fingers. "Right. You were 23 years old. You were stressed, because you were in the middle of your thesis and even though you had enough time left you wanted to get it done as fast as possible. Remember?"

Charlie crossed his arms, ducking his head. "Yeah," he said softly.

Alan continued. "You were in pain. For weeks. You were getting sick and you ran a fever. Your mother and I wanted you to see a doctor, but you didn't want to. 'I'll stop when it gets worse' you said. That you were just stressed. I can still hear you saying it. Your appendix burst a few hours later."

"Dad, I remember. It's okay," Charlie interrupted.

"You were in hospital for two weeks," Alan concluded and Charlie rolled his eyes.

"When will I get the keys back?" he asked. Alan shook his head, upset, and turned back to the stove, stirring the soup. Charlie walked over to him. "Dad …" He put a hand on Alan's shoulder but his father shook it off and went to the refrigerator and got a bottle of water out. Charlie watched him taking a sip and then leaning against the refrigerator. "What's going on, Dad?"

"I don't like your brother taking risks with your life. He takes you to crime scenes, surveillances and interviews."

Charlie crossed his arms. "I'm also consulting for the NSA, Dad. And for other federal agencies."

"In an office. In a protected building."

Charlie didn't answer. Mostly, his work for the NSA had been harmless for him, but there were other times when he'd gotten into the line of fire. He'd never told his parents or Don about it. Till now, the attacks and accidents had been relatively harmless. Once, the brakes of the agent's car that was driving with him to a crime scene had been cut. Another time Charlie had been mugged and beaten on his way back to the hotel and all data that he had with him was stolen. He'd been threatened. Sometimes, the crime scenes weren't as harmless as the responsible agents had thought and one of the perpetrators waited for them ... once even a bomb. Charlie had hidden scratches, abrasions, bruises and nightmares when he'd come home again.

"You were working only a few months for Don when a sniper took a shot at you."

Charlie had to admit that this scenario had been the worst he'd experienced until now. "That wasn't Don's fault. It was mine."

Alan nodded slowly. He sighed, massaging his forehead. "Sometimes I'd rather have you only working for CalSci, Charlie."

Charlie stepped up to his father. "I can't. I can help so much with the numbers."

Alan nodded. "I know." He rolled his eyes. "You inherited this stubbornness from your mother."

"Are you sure?" Charlie asked with a grin. "You can be pretty stubborn, too."

Alan shook his head. "The gift for math, that's mine, well, at least some of it." Charlie had inherited most from Maggie. From the dark curls which she liked to colour blonde to her stubbornness and her smile. Don had always taken after Alan more. The brothers had also formed relationships with their parents that way. While Don had always come to Alan with his problems, Maggie had taken care of Charlie, going with him to Princeton and getting him the tutors. Alan had frequently felt overwhelmed in the presence of his youngest son. Maggie had always seemed to be able to keep up with her highly intelligent son, or had at least pretended very convincingly. Alan blinked away the memories and refocused on Charlie. "Sit down. Lunch is almost done. Then you'll take a nap."

"Dad," Charlie protested.

Alan shook his head and Charlie gave in. At least for the moment.


	8. Chapter 8

**7.**

Brian Wilder lay in a guarded single room of the hospital. Attached to various monitors and infusions, it was easy to mistake him for the victim. Don and Megan knew better. Brian did as well. His dark eyes watched the agents mistrustfully while Megan was getting her memo pad out. Colby had called while they were on their way to the hospital, telling them the robber's name and criminal history. Wilder was a former prisoner, but in the last few years his record was clean – at least on the surface. No tickets, no other offences since his release. He even had a job.

"Well, it's clear now why the robbers left the storage room before we arrived, Mr. Wilder. Does your boss know that Jason Cox isn't your real name?"

Wilder avoided Don's gaze. "I don't work there anymore. I changed my name, because I needed the job and he wouldn't have hired me if he'd known about my past. He never asked."

Megan nodded in understanding. "Sure. He's the kind of guy who doesn't question what his clients store either, as long as the cash was coming in regularly. So, you were the early warning system, in case someone started asking tough questions about the storage rooms. A shame that your boss got nervous when we put an ABP out on your van."

"I've no idea what you're talking about. I didn't warn anybody."

Don glanced at the infusions and monitors. "Morphine, Mr. Wilder?" he asked, slightly amused. "I hope the nurses cut you off until our interview's done. We don't want you to make any mistakes."

Brian's face became peevish. "Hours ago. Because the doc told them you wanted to interview me. But I've got nothing to tell you."

"Are you sure?" Don asked. "You were shooting at three federal agents and a civilian while you and your accomplices tried to leave a crime scene. We can connect you to more than eight bank robberies."

"No, you can't," Wilder answered. "You got fingerprints? DNA?"

Megan smiled. "You can't even imagine what we found, Mr. Wilder." _'Nothing,'_ she thought to herself. But he didn't have to know that. The men on the few videos they had couldn't be ID'd, there were no fingerprints or DNA at the crime scenes. They had only Brian. "Who are your accomplices?"

"Sweetie, I've got no idea what you're talking about," Brian answered. He turned innocent brown eyes towards Don. "I take a late night walk and, suddenly, there's a shootout. I wanted to run for my life - you think that I wanted to flee the crime scene."

"We found a weapon on you," Don said. "We found bullets of that same weapon spread all around the street."

"I was just protecting myself," Brian answered. "I have a right to do that."

Megan continued. "Mr. Wilder, you're previously convicted. Theft, muggings …"

Brian sighed. "I had a bad childhood and made mistakes in my life. I did my time. I've got a job. I pay taxes."

"Yeah, at night you're robbing banks and in the daylight, you're protecting the storage rooms of your accomplices."

Brian smiled. "Prove it." Don and Megan shared a look.

On their way to the elevators, Don cursed. "He knows that we've got nothing on him."

"He's smart," Megan confirmed, making way for a male nurse who was pushing a patient's wheelchair. "And arrogant," she continued. "He won't betray his accomplices."

"They've got a deal. He wouldn't give a damn about them if they hadn't." Don pressed the call button for the elevator. Then, he briefly rubbed over the bandage around his thigh which was hidden under the trousers.

"Itchy?" Megan asked in sympathy, pulling her hair back into a braid.

He shrugged. "Sometimes it itches, sometimes it hurts."

"That's a good sign – it's healing," his partner answered.

Don glanced at her in amusement. "Well, look who's talking – now you're all set to become a mom." Megan laughed.

"And you're sure that you're okay?" Amita asked, switching on her laptop before she handed it to Charlie. He briefly glanced towards the kitchen where his father was collecting ingredients for dinner. Alan had declared a new law in the Eppes' house -contact with a laptop was forbidden to Charlie at all costs. But Amita didn't know that.

Having given up on asking his father for the garage key, Charlie had simply invited Larry and Amita - and asked Amita to bring her computer. Now, the three scientists were gathered in the warmly lit Eppes' living room with Shanti. Amita and Larry shared the leather couch while Charlie made himself comfortable in the armchair, his legs resting on a seat stool. Amita and Larry had followed his report on the surveillance gone wrong with interest. Unfortunately, now they showed the same subliminal worry as his father.

"I'm fine," he assured them, looking at Amita and closing his eyes when he got dizzy – making the lie obvious.

Larry pressed the tips of his fingers together, showing his scepticism. "I don't know, Charles. You seem to be a bit pale."

"I'm always pale," Charlie answered. He opened the program he needed on Amita's desktop. Amita leant back into the soft cushions which Margaret Eppes had chosen for the couch and then took Shanti out of the stroller, sitting her on her lap. The little girl fidgeted restlessly and started to whine.

"Can I set her down?" Amita asked.

Charlie nodded absent-mindedly. "Sure." Shanti mumbled a couple of indistinct but obviously approving words as Amita set her down and explored the living room on wobbly legs. Charlie glanced at the pad which lay on the armrest of his chair where he had noted formulas for Don's case within the last few hours. Alan had noticed the pad and the ballpoint pen but had said nothing about it. Charlie assumed that they had found a silent agreement. "Dad locked me out of the garage," he explained. "But I need this program to create a couple of maps for Don with new hot zones. Can you print them out tomorrow and bring them to the field office, please? Dad won't let me out his sight."

Amita frowned, ignoring his plea. "You're still working on the case?"

"Sure," Charlie answered.

"I think your father had a good reason to lock you out of the garage," Larry said.

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Well … the doctor told me to rest." He glanced searchingly in the direction of the kitchen, only seeing Shanti toddle towards the dining table. At Amita's searching look he added sheepishly, "And he told me to avoid monitors."

Amita looked at him reproachfully. "Charlie."

"I'm fine," he replied.

Amita reached out for her computer. "If your father sees you with my laptop, he'll kill me for sure."

Charlie held it out of her reach. "I'm fine."

"Fine," Larry echoed in a voice Charlie remembered from his time in Princeton when he'd had trouble with other students.

His mentor hadn't believed him then, either, when Charlie swore that he was fine. "A bit dizzy, maybe," Charlie admitted, "and I feel a little sick. And I've got a small headache." Which had to be the understatement of the century. He didn't mention the tiredness which he had fought for hours now. The painkillers made it hard for him to concentrate, but fortunately, he was used to working against the needs of his body and hadn't given way to sleep. Amita leant across him, trying to grab her laptop again.

"Don't," Charlie laughed.

Amita snatched her laptop, snapped the screen shut and held it against her chest firmly, staring pleadingly into Charlie's eyes. "I think that enough happened already. Please, just rest."

Charlie saw that she was really worried about him. His smile faded. "I'm fine."

She rested a hand in his neck. "Please," she said softly. Charlie closed his eyes when Amita pressed a kiss to his forehead before she sat down again.

"Amita?" Alan called and Charlie could hear him coming from the kitchen into the living room. He turned to face his father. Alan carried Shanti in his arms. "You lost someone?"

Amita smiled, putting the laptop on the couch table, before taking Shanti from Charlie's father. "In fact, I did," she said. Shanti giggled merrily, pulling at Amita's dark hair before reaching for Charlie. Charlie smiled at her. Actually, he was losing the fight against exhaustion. He closed his eyes.

A warm hand touched his forehead and when he looked up; his father was standing above him. "You okay?"

"Tired," Charlie answered.

"Yeah, the doctor said that might happen."

Charlie rubbed his eyes and reached for the pad and pen. "Don will be here in a few hours. I just want to …"

Alan shook his head, taking away paper and pen. "You sleep now."

"I'm not that tired, Dad ," Charlie answered. Alan cast a long-suffering look at Amita and Larry.

Amita stepped next to Charlie and sat Shanti down on his lap. "Could you just look after her while I'm helping your father with dinner?"

Before Charlie could contradict her, she rushed towards the kitchen. Charlie sighed and shrugged in Shanti's direction. "Now, she's gone," he said. Shanti smiled, then she yawned and crawled up Charlie's chest where she promptly fell asleep with her head on his shoulder.

Alan chuckled. "Listen to the young lady." He turned to face Larry. "I know that Amita wanted to stay for dinner, but how about you?"

"Oh …" Larry seemed to think about it. "Actually, nothing speaks against it," he answered.

"Great." Alan headed back to the kitchen.

Larry got up. "I'll also help you with the preparations." Alan made a point in turning the light off in the living room. It was already dark enough outside for the street lamps to outline the furniture in the living room with their cool glow. A stripe of light came from the kitchen but illuminated the room only a little. Charlie gave up the idea to work on the equations in writing. He tightened his grip around Shanti, deciding to give in. At least he made it look that way. He could do arithmetic in his head while he was waiting for dinner. After the meal, he could write down his ideas. He didn't get far with his calculations before the painkillers pulled him into a dreamless sleep.

Don entered the house shortly after ten. The living room was lit weakly by a lamp in one of the corners. His father sat on the couch doing a crossword puzzle. Charlie lay sleeping in the armchair, his legs propped on the stool in front of him.

"Hey," Don said softly.

"Hey, Donnie!" Alan answered and nodded in the direction of the kitchen before he got up and put the crossword puzzle aside.

In the kitchen, Don took a beer from the refrigerator and leant against the waist-high kitchen furniture.

"Hard day?" Alan asked.

"No sign of the robbers," Don answered. "I'm afraid they'll be able to hit again before we catch them."

"You're prepared, Donnie. You'll get them eventually," Alan said confidently.

"They're smart. And good at what they do," Don said. He rubbed his forehead and sipped on his beer. "How's Charlie?"

"In a coma," Alan joked, showing a smile. "He fell asleep around seven. I didn't even wake him for dinner. I was so glad that he's finally getting some rest." Don nodded in understanding. Alan frowned. "Don, you didn't ask him for help again after the shoot-out, did you?"

Don shook his head. "He's hurt, Dad. Of course not. Why would you think that?"

"He's running the numbers for you, again."

Don let the words hang in the air for a minute. "I didn't ask him to do it."

Alan shrugged. "You know him. He always wants to impress his big brother. And he wants to help you. And he's asking too much from himself." Don nodded slowly. When he'd been younger, his father had frequently said the very same to him. Every time, when Charlie had done Don's homework and Margaret had walked in on them, asking Don to study himself. Or when Alan and Don had argued about Charlie running after his big brother like a puppy in high school. Only ten years old and he'd already gotten into the same classes in the same school as Don. Don had hated it. When Alan had told him at that time that Charlie only wanted Don's attention, he'd considered it an accusation. As if he'd wanted Charlie's hero worship at that time. Today, it sounded like a simple observation - and a request.

"I'll talk to him," he said.

"Thanks," his father answered with a sigh. "He isn't listening to me."

Don put the empty bottle with the others in the cupboard under the sink. "I'll bring him to bed and then I'll catch a little sleep myself."

"Okay. I'll lock the doors."

"See ya tomorrow, Dad." Don smiled at his father and headed back to the living room and his brother. "Let's go, buddy," he said, pulling Charlie upright.

His brother sagged against him. "Ow."

"Sorry," Don answered. "Headache?"

"As if Larry'd hit me with his telescope."

Don chuckled, putting one of Charlie's arms around his shoulders. "You actually know what that feels like?" Charlie sighed, standing up. They headed for the stairs.

"Well, he did hit me with his telescope once. When he moved to CalSci and set up his office."

They took the first steps up.

"I'm still wondering if I should have seen it coming or if it's his fault."

They arrived upstairs. Charlie rubbed his eyes, and then he looked up to his brother as if he was just noticing that it was him. "Don?"

The agent laughed. "Yeah. Are you telling me you didn't notice?" He pushed open Charlie's door with his foot.

"I've got news," Charlie said. He sounded more awake; however, he still clung to Don. "It's difficult to foresee their next target. Heisenberg's uncertainty principle. I'll try-"

"To get some sleep," Don interrupted, sitting him down on the bed. "You should rest. Forget the FBI for a couple of days. And CalSci, too."

Charlie burrowed himself in the covers. "It's important," he mumbled.

"That you're getting better, yeah, I agree," Don answered.

Charlie pulled up the blankets. He had to admit that he still was quite exhausted despite the deep sleep he'd just awoken from. "I'll get to work first thing in the morning, Don," he said softly. His brother rolled his eyes; however, he was content with the fact that Charlie didn't seem to want to get back to work immediately.

"We'll talk about that tomorrow, buddy." He turned the lights off when he left the room. In front of the door he stopped, staring at the opposite wall. Sometimes he really wasn't sure whether it was right to drag Charlie into his line of work. And sometimes he couldn't imagine at all how his life would be going if he hadn't done it. Would he and his brother still avoid every type of contact? Or would they have found another way to reconnect? Don had his doubts about it. He doubted it very much. And therefore he didn't regret it.

"Two hours, Dad."

Alan ignored his youngest, concentrating instead on putting the groceries away.

"I just want to get lunch with Larry and attend my office hours. Finals are coming up. The students are getting nervous. I need to attend the office hours in person."

"Amita can do it."

"No, Dad, she can't. There's Shanti and she … the students need me." He got up from the kitchen table, proud, when the room didn't begin to spin. "You see? No puking … no dizziness … I'm fine."

He smiled at Alan who was looking at him searchingly. "Headache?" his father asked after a while.

Charlie pulled a grimace, knowing that he couldn't lie about that. "I can take something for it, Dad. And as soon as I get home, I'm lying down and I'll be sleeping for as long as you want me to. Promise."

Alan crossed his arms, raising his eyebrows doubtingly. "Doctor's orders are no stress …"

"There's no stress. I'll chat with Larry and I'll talk to my students. No stress involved."

"… bright light …"

"I'll pull the curtains in the office."

"… no noise …"

"I'm not going to eat in the canteen. Larry will buy lunch and bring it into my office."

"… no exhausting activity of any kind."

"I'll be sitting down the whole time."

"I'll pick you up at 2pm."

"I'll be coming with you without a word of protest." He'd do everything his father asked just to be able to leave the house for a couple of hours. Charlie hadn't spent so much time outside the garage, university or life in general since he'd got detention when he was seven after one of his practical proofs had ended with a flooded basement.

Alan seemed to think about it, but then he sighed in defeat. "Fine."

Charlie smiled. "Thanks, Dad. You won't regret it." He turned around, leaving the kitchen to go and change.

Alan rolled his eyes. "Why do I get the feeling that I'll do just that?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:** Because of some recent reviews, I changed the setting and won't accept anonymous comments anymore. It's not because I don't want anyone to criticise the story. I just like to respond to the reviewers and I'm unable to do that if they hide behind anonymous posts.

If you don't like the story at all, I can only recommend not to read it. Thank you.

XXX

**8.**

Larry watched his younger friend quietly for some minutes from the door. It was dim in Charlie's office; the curtains were drawn and only admitted in enough sunlight to be able to recognize the furniture. Additional light came from the writing table lamp and a lamp in the corner. Larry knocked on the door frame softly and entered. Charlie turned around from the black board, his eyes squinting as if in pain and rubbing his forehead.

"Hey, Larry!" Charlie said.

Larry put down the tray containing sandwiches and juice for Charlie as well as rice pudding and milk for himself. Charlie turned to face the board again and Larry stepped up next to him, glancing at the formulas with a practised eye. He knew Charlie's way of working better than anyone. It hadn't changed very much since he'd first met his friend. It nevertheless astonished Larry again and again, how fast Charlie could express the world around him in numbers.

It had been that way since he'd observed Charlie working for the first time - late in the evening in Larry's office in Princeton. He still remembered Margaret Eppes sitting in an easy-chair in the corner and reading a book while the 15-year-old had explained to Larry where one of the professors had made a mistake in his calculations.

"Charles, am I right with the assumption that these calculations are for Don's current case?"

Charlie squinted again. "Yeah." He closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead with a hand and then started to massage his temple. Larry knew intense headaches when he saw them. He opened the topmost drawer in Charlie's desk and held out a can of aspirin to him. "I already took three," Charlie answered. "I'll take stronger painkillers when I get home. But I can't do that before office hours."

Larry put the aspirin on the desk. "Charles, you shouldn't work." He frowned and pointed to one of the equations. "Are you trying to avoid Heisenberg?"

"I'm trying to estimate what the robbers are going to do next. They play with open cards now – the FBI knows that they can disturb the radio, that they are heavily armed and with what – and they lost one of them to the FBI. They know that the FBI's on to them and that everybody's looking for them and I've got to find out where they'll hit next."

Larry shook his head in dismay. "I thought I've already told you that there are things which mathematics cannot solve."

"I know that, I'm taking an educated guess."

"Guessing's not good," Larry replied.

"I know," Charlie sighed. He put down the chalk and sat down. "That's why I'm approaching the calculations from different angles. It's good that the guy the FBI caught doesn't seem to be the leader." Larry had begun to eat his rice pudding, but he stopped when Charlie was talking.

"How is that good?"

"That means that the group's organization doesn't change and-"

"Its tactics," Larry nodded in understanding. "They'll only adjust a few minor things."

"It's as if a company had to fire half of its employees and is forced to spend less money because the order book's almost empty. If the CEO doesn't change he'll take measures to improve the situation. But he'll do that in his own way, because every CEO's running his company differently. Some would take out mortgages and invest in marketing; others would wait it out and try to save their resources."

"Megan did give you a profile on the leader, right?" Larry asked.

Charlie nodded. "Yeah. It's not much, but she thinks that he's a strong character, born to lead. Very organized. Smart. She also profiled the robbers' dynamics. We don't have any video footage from the banks, the safes were opened expertly and the robbers knew which safe deposit boxes to open. So she thinks that the leader gathered a pretty talented group. I noticed that there's no pattern concerning the time frame between the robberies. They strike as soon as they're ready. They're unpredictable, but well thought-out. With this profile I can estimate how the robbers will react to the changed circumstances and give Don a few lists with the next targets."

"It's still an educated guess," Larry said.

"Yeah," Charlie answered with a shrug, "I know."

XXX

Don's cell rang when he and Megan took a break. His eyes hurt from going through the mountains of files on hackers and past robberies that he hoped would contain some kind of lead on who'd be capable of doing this. He looked at the caller ID and answered, concerned. "Dad, what's up?"

"_Can you do me a favour? Could you pick up Charlie at CalSci and drive him home? I'd ask Larry, but I know that he's holding a class right now. My car broke down and it seems like I'll be waiting in the shop for a while."_

Don frowned. "What? Is Charlie already working, again?"

"_No. He just didn't want to miss his office hours."_

Don sighed, annoyed. "He really doesn't know how to relax."

"_Yeah, I know someone else with that very same problem,"_ Alan said and Don shook his head, smiling.

He could get … a bit obsessed when he was working on a case. He could admit that. "I'll pick him up. You want me to pick you up at the shop?"

"_No, no. They say it's just a small thing. They're already working on it. But that'll take another hour or so. I'll wait."_

"Okay, Dad." Don hung up, and then turned to Megan. "I need to leave for half an hour."

Megan smiled knowingly. "Doesn't the professor know when to rest?"

Don laughed. "Yeah, right."

XXX

"So, if you look through your notes on the last few lectures again, you shouldn't have any problems with the exam," Charlie explained, opening the door for the young student standing beside him. "You're worried for no reason. I believe that you understand the substance very well. If you should nevertheless have problems, you can send me an e-mail any time."

She smiled. "Thank you, Professor." When she left, Charlie took a look into the corridor in front of his door. There were no other students waiting for his advice, so he returned to his office, leaving the door open, before he sat down at his desk. A look at his watch told him that his father should already be here. His office hours had ended ten minutes ago. He started to organize his documents, sliding some of them into his bag to study them within the next days at home. After the headaches had become much worse during office hours, he had to admit that he simply wasn't fit enough for work yet. So he wanted to follow doctor's orders and stay at home the next few days. At least the nausea and the dizziness seemed to have disappeared. Charlie got up and looked thoughtfully at the calculations for Don's case on his black board. He'd already noted down the results for his brother, but since his father was apparently late, he could take a look at the equations one more time. Suddenly, a possibility to improve his calculations occurred to him. Frowning, Charlie reached for the sponge and removed the equations, and then he took the chalk and spent the next minutes improving the calculations. For lunchtime, it was astonishingly quiet in the corridors outside of Charlie's door. From the court under his window, he could hear the voices of the students who spent their lunch break outside despite the cold and the rain. He shut out the noise, concentrating only on the scratching of the chalk on the board. This habit had driven his father to despair during Charlie's youth. He didn't hear anything when he really concentrated, not even somebody calling his name. Finally, he drew a double bar under his new result. He took a step backwards and scrutinized the calculations once again from a distance. "Hm," he said. When he wanted to turn around to correct the results on the summary for Don he suddenly knew that he was no longer alone. He stared at the board, knowing instinctively that neither his father nor his friends or students stood behind him. The barrel of a weapon was pressed into his back.

"I always sucked at math," a man said. Charlie closed his eyes, he didn't dare to move. He hoped that his father wouldn't come in now. "Here's the deal, Professor. You'll take your bag and accompany me to my car without talking to anyone, without even looking at anyone. You do that and I'm not going to hurt you." Charlie swallowed. The gun was pressed harder into his back. "You understand?" Charlie nodded slowly. "Good." The man seized his upper arm, taking the weapon away before he turned Charlie around to face him. Charlie looked up at him, trying to take in as much of the other man's looks as he could. He was bigger than Charlie, even bigger than Don. He was around 50, with short, blonde hair which contained streaks of grey and blue eyes. He wore a leather jacket which didn't hide the fact that he was very athletic. With one hand he held Charlie's upper arm while the other one was stuffing the Beretta into one of the big jacket pockets, holding it in Charlie's direction. The leather was old and soft, already well-used. Nobody would suspect a weapon was in the hand of the man. "Your bag," he said, pushing Charlie in the direction of his desk. Charlie reached for the strap of the bag when he saw his cell lying on the table top. As casually as possible he reached for it while he was hanging the bag over his shoulder. The man laughed in amusement, taking the cell away from him, putting it back on the desk. "They can locate those things. It's better if it stays here, don't you think?" He pushed Charlie toward his office door.

"What do you want?" he asked breathlessly.

"Just a couple of answers," the man said. They entered the corridor and his kidnapper let Charlie go to drape a seemingly friendly arm around his shoulders. They didn't head for the main stairs but in the other direction - to the emergency exit at the other end of the corridor. Nobody approached them, the office doors of Charlie's colleagues were closed – it was around lunchtime; most of them weren't even occupied. Charlie was oddly glad for that. He didn't want to risk pulling others into this situation.

"Charlie? Wait. Where are you going?"

Charlie wanted to stop and warn his brother, but the man pulled him forwards.

Don sounded alarmed. "Charlie!"

Charlie could imagine how the man's grip on his weapon tightened. He couldn't stay silent. "Don, gun!" Faster than Charlie could react, the man had pulled him crossways over his chest, turning around to face Don with the weapon drawn, Charlie a shield in front of his body. Charlie's bag slipped off his shoulder, hitting the ground with a muffled sound.

Don had pushed open the door to an office next to him and was standing behind the protective door frame His gun pointed to the man who was holding his brother hostage – and who was obviously trying to reach the emergency exit down the corridor. Don cursed that he didn't have any direct contact to any sort of reinforcements. "FBI! Drop your weapon."

The door to Dr. Jennings' office opened. Confused, he asked, "What's going on here?" Then he noticed Don's weapon, paled and stepped back into his office.

Don showed him his badge with his free hand, keeping his gaze on Charlie and the man behind him. "FBI. Call the police. Tell them to surround the emergency exit." He focused on Charlie's kidnapper. "FBI! Drop your weapon, now." They'd reach the emergency exit soon. Charlie knew that his chances were bad if they made it.

Therefore, he let himself drop, hoping that his kidnapper didn't want to let himself be held back by an additional weight. The man made a surprised sound, before he cursed softly. His grip around Charlie tightening, he dragged him further away from Don. "Get up," he hissed. Sirens could be heard in the distance. The man cursed again, and then pushed a knee in Charlie's back, flinging him forwards. A shot came loose from Don's weapon and Charlie raised his arms over his head, lying on the ground, hoping, that Don had hit. The door to the emergency exit closed, confirming that this was not the case.

"Damn," Don cursed. He hurried to his younger brother and squatted down next to him, trying to find any injuries. "Charlie, are you hurt?"

"I'm okay," he answered, sitting up. He batted away Don's hands. "Go. Go after him." Don hesitated. "I'm okay. Go." Don nodded and hurried to the emergency exit. When he had disappeared through the door, Charlie let himself fall against the wall of the corridor, rubbing his forehead.

"Charlie, are you all right?"

He looked up at Dr. Jennings, nodding. "I'm fine, Carl. Thank you."

Jennings squatted down next to him, looking towards the emergency exit. "What the hell just happened?"

"I'm not sure," Charlie answered.

XXX

"Don," Megan called in the FBI head office half an hour later, handing him a cup of coffee. He tore himself out of his thoughts, averting his eyes from Charlie who was making an identikit with a draftsman in the conference room. His brother seemed to be tired, permanently massaging his forehead and Don knew that he had to have one tremendous headache.

"They couldn't find him," Megan reported and Don sighed in frustration.

"I thought so. He was well prepared. He wanted to sneak Charlie out through the emergency exit instead of crossing the whole courtyard." He was looking at his brother again, watching David serve Charlie a coffee and then take a position in a corner of the conference room.

Megan's focus was on Charlie, too. "You think that's got something to do with our case."

Don shrugged. "Could be. Could also be some criminal who wants to use Charlie's math."

Megan added carefully, "Could be someone who's after you."

Don was getting sick just thinking about that, but he forced himself to a nod. "Could be. I sent Colby home to watch my dad, just in case."

Megan could see that her supervisor was worried beyond reason. "What are you going to do now?"

Don sipped his coffee. "Protect my family."

XXX

Colby opened the Eppes' the front door when Don and Charlie arrived at the house. The young agent updated Don while they were entering the house.

"I've seen no one. No suspicious car or person, nothing … I don't think that your father's the target."

Don closed the door.

Alan joined them, coming from the kitchen. "Thank God, you're okay," he said with a nervous edge to his voice, looking at Don, visibly stunned. "I don't want to imagine what could have happened if I'd picked him up."

Don didn't want to, either, and instead turned to his brother: "Charlie, go and lie down. And by that I mean that you should take a nap."

His brother's answering look was slightly irritated, but also exhausted, so he said nothing and took the stairs to his room. Don turned to his father. "He has a headache. And I think that this whole situation overwhelmed him."

"I'll take up a sandwich for him so he can take his painkillers." Alan nodded at Don, before following his youngest upstairs. Don suspected that Alan wanted to calm down Charlie, first. Possibly himself, too.

Don sighed and turned to face Colby. "Colby, I need to get back to the office and check a few things with David. Megan will be here in half an hour to take over."

Colby raised his eyebrows in surprise, running a hand through his dark blonde hair. "I can stay the night, Don. No problem."

"No, you go home and sleep. I want you and David to take Charlie out of town tomorrow."

Colby crossed his arms. "A safe house?" he asked.

Don shook his head. "I'll talk it through with David, later, but you should check into a motel."

"A motel," Colby echoed in confusion. "Wouldn't it be better to hide him in a safe house?"

Don massaged his neck, frustrated. "Merrick doesn't want us to. He thinks that Charlie should be guarded by an agent, but that's about it. He thinks the case is getting too personal for me to be involved. I couldn't argue with him about it. He'd have assigned Charlie's safety to another agent."

"I take it he doesn't know about your plan," Colby answered.

"Not really. He knows that I'm assigning David and you to protect Charlie. I don't think he cares where you do it. But I'd like to see him outside of his usual routine. Then he's harder to find."

"What about your dad?" Colby asked.

Don sighed. "The kidnapper told Charlie, that he wanted answers. I think that he wanted to take Charlie in particular. But dad's going to move into my apartment tomorrow, just in case. It's small and you can't get in as easily. I've got a curious neighbour with a protective dog. He's always barking as soon as someone comes near our doors."

Colby glanced upstairs, grimacing. "Is Charlie going to like your plan?"

Don laughed bitterly. "Even if you have to bind and gag him – tomorrow, he'll leave this house."


	10. Chapter 10

**9.**

As Don was draping his jacket over his chair, David came towards him in an excited hurry. "Don I was just going to call you. We've got an ID on Charlie's kidnapper – and we think that he's connected to the bank robberies."

Don felt as if someone had given him new energy and he followed David into the conference room. Merrick was already there. He sat at the conference table, looking at the phone placed there.

As Don and David entered, a woman on the other end of the line was explaining, "… can tell you who's working with him. I'm going to catch the next flight."

"Thank you, Agent Hailey. We'll be awaiting your arrival." Merrick hung up. "Lucky us," he said to Don, the argument in his office a few hours ago apparently already forgotten. "We sent the identikit to all the FBI branches and Denver called back. One of their agents is already on the way. Linda Hailey. She ID'd the man as one Connor Hill. He was in prison for a triple murder and a few bank robberies. Was part of a successful escape a year ago when he was on the way to another prison with a couple of felons. The escape was well organized. He had help from the outside. They blocked the street and outwitted the guards. Even some of the felons in the bus were shot."

Don sank into one of the chairs, overwhelmed. The investigation had moved so slow till now and they had run into so many walls that he'd not expected a promising lead. And now, they had even more than that - they had a name.

"I'm already running a check on Hill," David said. "We're checking for credit card traces, leases and so on. So far we've got nothing. He may be using a false ID."

Don answered, "Sure. But we've got a lead."

XXX

Charlie shook his head. "No. I'm staying." Charlie sat at his desk, his chair turned in Don's direction. His desk was cluttered with the reference books that didn't fit on the shelves or in the garage and Charlie's office on campus anymore. The simple, big table made of bright wood was the only thing which had already been in this room during Charlie's childhood. The bed, the chest of drawers and the bookshelves were relatively new. A result of renovation work.

Don sighed, sitting down on Charlie's bed. "I want you to leave with Colby and David."

"I want to stay."

"Don't make a big deal out of this," Don pleaded.

"Why do I have to leave? I can still help you. Now that we know who's behind those robberies, I can calculate with a lot more accuracy. All I need is Hill's file. Then I can -"

"Charlie." Don's voice hardened. He wasn't going to argue this anymore.

Charlie hesitated, staring at Don for a couple of seconds. "Why are you sending me away?"

Don was pretty sure that Charlie knew the answer. But it seemed as if his brother wanted to hear Don's version.

"Because I don't want something like yesterday happening again – because it could go wrong next time."

"Colby and David could protect me here. Or I'll stay in the FBI office."

"I want you to leave."

"But you can't force me to, right?" Charlie tilted his head questioningly.

Don sighed, irritated. The doorbell rang and he looked at his watch. "Colby and David are here." He heard his father opening the door and letting the agents enter. Their small talk couldn't be understood in Charlie's room because of the closed door, but it would be only a matter of time until the two agents would ask for their supervisor. He got up and went to the door. "Please, pack a bag."

"Don -"

"Damn it, Charlie! Can't you just do what I tell you?" Don asked furiously, turning around to face his brother. "Believe me; this isn't easy for me either. I'd like to look out for you myself but I just can't. I'm the lead agent and I have to be able to concentrate. And if I let another team take over the case, another agent's going to be responsible for your safety and if he's thinking like Merrick then he'd just assign a rookie to look out for you. Truth is, that a triple murderer, bank robber and escaped felon is looking for you. He wants to take you to do God knows what to you. And his friends are for sure just as nice as him."

Charlie stood, becoming just as furious. "Well, isn't that my decision? My risk? I want to take it to -"

"As my civilian consultant you have to follow my orders, Charlie."

"But not as your brother. I can take every risk I want to."

"When you said that the last time, a sniper tried to shoot a hole in your head."

Charlie took a step back. "Wow," he mumbled. Don closed his eyes, turning away. He hadn't wanted to bring up that topic, knowing that Charlie still had nightmares because of it. Don did, too. Charlie cleared his throat. "You're still thinking that I don't know anything about reality. You're still thinking that I'm living in this bubble. But I know how life works, Don. The FBI's not my only gig. And not everyone's treating me like a baby."

Don whirled around to face him. "But I'm always the one who's responsible for your injuries. I always have been."

"You should never have asked me for help, Don, if you didn't want it. I can decide for myself. I'm not an abacus that you can put on the shelf when you don't need it."

"Yeah, and that's such a shame." Don turned away, taking a deep breath.

Charlie cleared his throat. "You should have never asked me for help, Don ," he repeated.

"Yeah," Don mumbled. "I think so, too." He turned away and left the room, slamming the door on his way out.

Charlie stared after his brother, too shaken to call after him. The last time his brother had been so furious with him had been the day their mother had died. Back then, Charlie had been too lost in his own mourning to register Don's angry outburst. He had allowed the numbers on the blackboard to be his only solace. Today, he heard every word.

It was true that their parents had always put much responsibility for Charlie on Don. Don had picked up Charlie from the elementary school one year every day when Sam Titchell had beaten him. They had attended the same high school and Charlie, much younger than the others, had needed his older brother to protect him from bullies. Don had helped; no matter how strained their relationship had been at the time. And even now as adults, Alan was counting on Don to protect Charlie when they were working on a case. Don and Charlie tried not to talk about the dangerous situations they got into in Alan's presence. But he had an instinct for such things. One day after the almost catastrophe with the sniper, he'd gotten the whole story out of Don. He always tried to be calm and to trust in his sons to keep the situation under control. But since the surveillance had gone wrong a couple of days ago, Alan was more nervous than before and Charlie knew that Alan wished he'd stop working for the FBI – or for any law enforcement body.

"Charlie!" Don called from downstairs. "Ten minutes!"

He sighed deeply. Truth was that he wanted to stay because he wanted to be nearby. He wanted to know immediately when something happened, he wanted to help. He hated the feeling of being useless.

XXX

Larry and Amita were standing behind Alan and Charlie. Colby and David were packing Charlie's bag into the pale grey car, going through the details with Don for the last time. Colby kept an attentive eye on the street, but his posture showed that he didn't notice any danger. The two agents wore civilian clothes and the car was part of the fleet of civilian-looking FBI vehicles. Alan hugged Charlie and then handed him the painkillers that the hospital had prescribed.

"I'm fine, Dad," Charlie tried to calm him down.

Alan shook his head. "Take them, please."

Charlie put the tablets into his jacket pocket.

Amita hugged him close. "Be careful," she pleaded.

Charlie returned the hug. "Don't worry," he mumbled. Larry nodded to him. He didn't speak.

Don joined them, putting his hands on his hips. "It's time," he said. Charlie walked to the car beside him. Both of them stared downwards. When Don finally spoke, it was in his most commanding tone. "Listen to Colby and David. I'll call you when something happens."

Charlie simply nodded.

Don didn't respond, but his posture betrayed his anger and tension.

Charlie put a hand on the car roof, not looking at Don. He knew that it wasn't a good idea, but he had to say it. "I've got a bad feeling about this, Don. What if something happens to dad? Or Amita or Larry."

"Don't worry about that," Don answered sharply. "I know my job, okay?" He held the door open for him. David, already in the driver's seat, started the engine. Charlie looked back to his father, Larry and Amita. Then he got in and Don slammed the door shut.

Colby fastened his seat belt and turned his head towards their charge. "Don't worry, Charlie. Everything's going to be okay."

Don shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, watching the car drive away. Then he ducked his head, sighing. His brother was right. His gut feeling was acting up, too. Don had always been able to rely on his instincts. He hoped to be right this time, too.

XXX

It was still quiet an hour into the drive. Charlie stared unseeingly out the window while Colby was on the lookout for pursuers and David concentrated on the traffic. Finally Charlie sighed, bored. "Why are we driving by this park for the third time in a row?"

Colby turned his head in his direction. "We'll be driving for as long as we need to in order to be sure that nobody's following us. Then we'll head for the motel." David turned into a quieter street and Colby nodded when nobody followed them. "What do you think?" he asked his partner.

"Looks clear," David answered.

Charlie asked, "Where are we going?"

Colby turned to around to face him as far as the seatbelt allowed. "Small motel near the airport."

David joined the traffic going towards the airport. He glanced in the outside mirror. "But we'll change the motel the day after tomorrow. Just to be on the safe side."

"If you need anything then you need to tell us and we'll fetch it for you," Colby added.

"What kind of room did you book?"

"Megan did that," Colby answered. "But I'm sure that she only booked for two."

"Motel's aren't very attentive. At least as long as you pay on time. Colby and I will check in together and sneak you in. We are the official guests and the motel's employees have to see us. We'll be the only ones who know that you're there, too. You won't leave the room."

Charlie sighed morosely. "Just like prison."

Colby and David glanced at each other. Don had recommended letting Charlie sulk.

David felt forced to say something. "Charlie … I can see why you're unhappy about this situation. But you need to work with us here, man."

Their eyes met in the rear view mirror and Charlie nodded.

XXX

Agent Linda Hailey from Colorado was tall, handsome and her black-white pantsuit fitted like a second skin. Her figure was perfect. On first sight, she didn't look like a well exercised FBI agent but rather like a style-conscious businesswoman. The fine face was framed by curly, shoulder-length hair and although the brown eyes looked sharply and attentively around, they inspired trust immediately. Megan almost got a little jealous. All the more when she saw the wedding ring which the young woman was wearing. There was kind of a legend going around the office that there were FBI agents who could maintain a marriage. Maybe, Megan could ask Hailey about that later and get advice on that. At the moment, she and Don were concentrating on the young woman's report. They sat together in the conference room; the projector displayed a picture of Connor Hill from Linda's laptop. His arrogant grin and cold, blue eyes didn't make it hard for Megan to believe that he'd killed a family.

Linda looked at the identikit in her hands which Charlie had made with the draftsman. When she spoke, she looked at Don and Megan sitting across from her at the table. "That's him, no doubt. Your civilian consultant was able to see him that well?"

"Yeah. He was able to look him directly in the eyes. Hill didn't hide behind a mask," Don answered. That said much about the man's self-confidence. "During the attacks, they didn't wear any masks, either. They just kept their faces turned away from every camera in the area."

Linda nodded slowly. "Well, we've been searching for Connor Hill for months now. As you know by now, he did time for bank robberies and a triple homicide. He and two other men escaped during a transfer to another prison. The outbreak was neatly organized from the outside. We don't know for sure who helped them but we know who Hill escaped with."

She pressed a button on her laptop and Connor's picture was replaced by two other photos. The first one featured a broad-shouldered, stocky man who looked in the camera with a dangerous smile. The brown hair was short cropped.

The other photo showed a boy - Megan estimated him to be in his early twenties. He looked nervously at the police photographer; the green eyes didn't focus directly on the camera but apparently on a spot just over the photographer's shoulder.

"Steve Klein and Kenny Jacobson. Klein's record's quite thick. Some of his crimes were violent like rape and bodily injury. He and Hill were having problems when they met in prison. They argued, there were fights and Hill even had to spend a night in the prison infirmary once."

"What did they fight about?" Megan asked curiously.

"Kenny," Linda answered. "He was arrested shortly after Hill and they shared a cell. Klein noticed Kenny in the prison's courtyard once and started to attack him."

Megan asked, "What kind of attack?"

"Klein's a rapist; some of his victims were men," Linda explained and Megan nodded. She thought so. Kenny was slim and cute and in prison, boys like him attracted bullies ... and worse.

"Hill became Kenny's protector. They formed a tight bond during their stay," Linda continued. Don raised his eyebrows.

"No, nothing like that," Linda said, cutting off his question. "Hill's like a father to Kenny. Kenny adores him."

Megan leant back in her chair. "Okay. So … Hill and Klein stopped fighting?"

Linda nodded. "I think that Hill was planning those bank robberies while in prison. And he knew that Kenny could be of use. That kid looks like the nice boy next door, but he's way out of our league."

Don became impatient when the other agent paused.

"Because?"

"He's a hacker," Linda answered. "I know from your case files that somebody hacked into the bank's systems. Kenny was condemned to six years in prison because he hacked into the systems of some companies and federal agencies. They couldn't link him to all the attacks the prosecutor accused him of and the attacks were rather minor, so he only got six years."

"Okay," Don said, "and what does Hill need Klein for?"

"Klein was the one with the contacts outside of prison. We're assuming that two of his buddies busted them out."

Megan asked, "Why do you think that?"

"They visited a lot before Klein escaped. And though they didn't leave any witnesses after the breakout, you arrested Brian Wilder and his buddy can't be far." She projected two new pictures on the wall. One was of Brian, the other showed a man with a slim, but athletic body and dark hair. "Justin Finchley. Did time for bank robberies. Out of prison two years. His field of expertise is safes. They say there's no safe he can't open."

Don leant forward, placing his forearms on the table. "Okay. Hill tried to kidnap a mathematician who consults for the FBI. Can you imagine why?"

Hailey seemed thoughtful, and then she shook her head. "He's got the perfect team for those robberies. I mean, you couldn't catch them so far … no offence."

Don shrugged.

Megan thought aloud. "Maybe those bank robberies aren't enough. Maybe he's got a new target. A bigger one. And he needs a mathematician to reach it."

Don nodded. "Maybe."

Linda sighed. "Well, one thing's for sure. Hill, Wilder and Klein are dangerous. Finchley's only after the money and the glory. He's not known for a violent streak. And as far as Kenny's concerned, I don't think he's doing this voluntarily."

Don frowned. "Why would you think that?"

"He's young and he made mistakes, but he didn't harm anyone. He's not the type for shoot outs like the one you had with the robbers. He'd rather work sitting in front of a computer. He doesn't like violence, and he wanted to begin a new life after prison." Linda looked pleadingly at the two agents sitting across from her. "Don't look at Kenny like you look at Hill. I think he's the victim, here."

Don got up. "There's a possibility that he's doing this voluntarily and I just can't keep him out of this."

Linda nodded, blowing a blonde curl out of her face. "I understand, but … I'm the one who caught and interviewed Kenny the last time he was arrested. I know him, so I should be part of this investigation. He's a sweet kid. He's just had a rough life. He's highly intelligent, but nobody ever supported him like he needed. Intelligence can be a curse, Agent Eppes."

Don laughed bitterly. "Believe me, I know. My brother went to Princeton when he was 13 years old."

"Well, I'm assuming his genius was discovered at a young age. He always had the support from his parents and from you, didn't he?"

Don narrowed his brown eyes. "Why are you asking?"

Linda stood too. She sounded almost furious. "Kenny never had anybody, Agent Eppes. His parents didn't care about him or his intelligence. His teachers thought that he was lazy because he was bored out of his mind in school and didn't participate. His classmates bullied him. That's why he skipped classes and dropped out of school. So Kenny searched for ways to challenge himself. He began to hack. Your brother would have done the same in this situation, don't you think?"

"You're very protective of the kid. I don't think you should work the case."

"Well, I'm not the only one with personal interest in this case, right?" Crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows, Linda looked at Don provocatively. "Did you really think I'd come here unprepared? I know that your brother's the civilian consultant who was attacked. I'm not saying that nobody should pay for that. But Kenny didn't do it. I just want to work with you on the case, as part of your team." Don stared at Linda undecidedly for a couple of moments, and then nodded. Linda seemed to have a good knowledge of Kenny which could help them later. He looked to Megan who nodded slowly, seemingly thinking the same.

"Okay," he said. "Let's get to work."


	11. Chapter 11

**10.**

Kenny Jacobson stared at the screen of his laptop and then let his eyes roam through the deserted storehouse on the edge of the industrial area which Connor had chosen as their base. The hall was small, offering just enough room for the van, a table, a couple of chairs, a couch, and a TV. A divided off room which had to have been an office once served as a sleeping area and a tiny storeroom with a heavy metal door was situated in the back. Kenny concentrated on the screen again, nibbling at his thumbnail nervously, and then closed his eyes tiredly. He supported his head on a hand, looking over to Connor and Justin who were talking beside the van. He should probably get out of this as long as he still could. A couple of bank robberies and a shoot-out could be delimited to a lesser punishment if he surrendered and confessed.

It was better than mass murder. Connor could call the next step in his plan what he wanted, but for Kenny, it remained just that. Maybe that was why he didn't manage to fulfil his part of the deal. Maybe, he subconsciously prevented himself from cracking the password. The irony was that he probably could simply slip away at night and he would be at the next police station within twenty minutes. But at that point his feelings interfered. The same ones that had brought him here in the first place. Connor had told him in prison that he didn't have to be part of the team. He'd assured him that he wouldn't be shot during the breakout like the guards and the other prisoners in the transport. They would have gone separate ways. But he owed Connor too much ... and he wanted to stay with him. His train of thought was interrupted when Steve Klein slid his body into his field of vision, leaning against the table.

Kenny raised his chin to look at him.

Steve showed a mean smile. "My offer's still standing, pretty boy." He leant forward and Kenny pressed his back against the chair, averting his eyes. "There's no use in wanting someone who doesn't want you." A casual hand landed on Kenny's thigh. "Or at least the kind of want you little faggots crave."

"Steve," Connor interrupted in a firm voice and Kenny sighed in relief. Steve averted his gaze from Kenny to look at their leader. "How often do I have to tell you?" Connor hissed and Steve pulled a face.

"A guy can still ask nicely." He headed for the microwave which stood next to the TV.

Connor grabbed his arm – he was smaller than Steve and not as muscled, but he still managed to look superior. "Don't touch the kid." Steve shook off his hand and left. Kenny smiled gratefully at Connor who stopped next to his chair. "How's it going?"

Kenny cleared his throat. "Bad. I can't do it, Connor. Their firewall's too good. Even if I could crack it, they'd find us immediately."

Connor supported himself with a hand on Kenny's chair, leaning towards the screen, and looked at the user interface of the FBI web page thoughtfully. "Well, in that case we have to try it with Eppes, again." He straightened up, his determination clearly visible. "Locate his cell."

Kenny nodded. "Okay."

XXX

The young woman behind the reception desk of the motel seemed bored and Colby had the suspicion that she stood under the influence of more than a joint. She wound a black curl around her forefinger, looking at the agents while chewing on her gum. The small TV on the reception desk was playing a talk show; the host was discussing the problems in American society. The flyers for fast food restaurants and nightclubs near the motel formed a clear contrast to the walls painted in boring white.

"What can I do for you, hot stuffs?" she asked, sounding as if David and Colby had interrupted her while she was doing something really important.

"We booked a room under the name of Johnson ," Colby answered.

The woman raised her eyebrows, letting her eyes stray to and fro between Colby and David, and sighed finally. She took a look into her computer. "Room 23. One King sized bed." The young woman fetched the key from a small basket behind the reception desk, throwing them an amused grin. "On channel 16, we've got a big selection of gay porn. Pay per View. And here's a flyer from one of the nightclubs near the motel, the _Lotus Lounge_ – it comes with the charms of Asia and really cute dancers. And you can get a few toys here at the reception desk like handcuffs -"

"Thank you, we're fine," Colby interrupted. He snatched the key and went outside. David followed him with a grin and started to laugh when the door closed. "_One_ King sized bed?" Colby hissed, glancing at David in misery. "I'll kill Megan as soon as I see her."

David shrugged. "I don't think that it's a bad idea, Colby. The perfect cover story. We won't be leaving the room very often. Let them think about it what they want."

Colby just snorted and said, "I'll go secure the room." He was satisfied when he realized that Megan had rented the room furthest away from the reception. He secured the little main room with the King sized bed, the little kitchenette and the TV area before he glanced into the bathroom briefly, too. Then he then stepped outside again and nodded to David who had parked the car closer to their room. A giggling, young woman and an older man came from the adjoining room. Colby averted his eyes when he thought he'd recognized one as a judge who was mentioned frequently in the newspaper because of his charity actions. The woman with him was neither his wife nor his daughter and quite certainly not his niece. David waited until the man and the woman had climbed into a sports car and left before he let Charlie get out. "Secured," Colby said. "I didn't have time to check the sheets, though. No guarantee as to what's hiding in there."

They entered the room and David locked the door while Charlie was looking around. He turned to face the two agents. "So, it seems Megan really hates us," he said.

Colby shrugged. "It's not that bad." He'd already slept in worse rooms.

"You hungry?" David asked. Charlie nodded briefly, sitting down at the small, round table near the kitchenette. He unpacked his laptop. "I'll go to _Burger King_. There's one down the street," David explained and Colby nodded.

"Sounds great."

David noted down their orders and left the room. Colby locked the door behind him. He put his hands on his hips and turned to Charlie. "What are you doing?"

Charlie glanced at him. "I need to do some calculations for Larry's project." Colby nodded. Charlie continued, "If I could get access to Hill's file I could work on the case, but I don't think Don wants me to."

Colby took one of the chairs and set it down in front of the window, before he sat astride it and peeked through the discoloured yellow curtains which probably had been white once. "He's just worried."

Charlie nodded. "I know that he's worried, but …" He went silent. "I'm not totally helpless," he continued.

Colby shrugged, keeping an eye on the parking lot. "We're talking about a team of motivated, previously convicted criminals, Charlie. Don's just being careful."

Charlie sighed deeply. "I know."

XXX

Connor placed one of the chairs next to Kenny and sat down. "You got something?"

Kenny nodded. "I found out Professor Eppes cell number from CalSci, hacked into some of the GPS systems and located him." He indicated the screen of the laptop where a satellite picture was shown. "That's the airport and the professor's here. I checked the address and there's a motel on that street. That's where he's staying."

"Good job," Connor answered. "You and Justin stay here. Steve and I will go get the professor." Steve nodded at Connor and went over to the van where they kept their weapons. He started to load two Berettas. Kenny nodded in relief when he heard that Connor would be taking Steve along.

Justin got up from the couch that stood in front of the television and put his hands on his hips in dissatisfaction. "You told me we'd be doing bank robberies."

Connor nodded, shoving the Beretta in his back waistband. "Yeah. Those robberies were the starting point to get the weapons, the hall, the van and the false IDs. And every one of us got a little fee out of it, too. But what I'm planning now can get us more money in less time and with less effort."

"You want to drag me into a kidnapping. Shit, I'm no kidnapper, man," Justin answered. Steve and Kenny stopped working on the van and the laptop, looking at Justin. If he'd leave, there'd be only three of them left. The arrest of Brian had already ripped a big hole into the group. If Justin were to go now - their safe expert...

Connor folded his hands behind in his back. "You can leave," he said calmly. "You already finished your part of the robberies."

Justin seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, and then he said, "It's just not worth it." He took his jacket off the armrest of the old couch and headed for the exit, past Connor. When he was almost at the door, Kenny saw out of the corners of his eyes how Connor drew the Beretta, he'd fastened in his belt at his back, and pointed it at Justin. Kenny jerked, as the shot sounded, and Justin's lifeless body collapsed on the ground.

Steve didn't seem to know whether he should shoot at Connor or make a bad comment about the dead man. He finally decided in favour of the latter, "Damn coward!"

"Remove the body," Connor ordered. "Then we'll leave." Kenny observed in shock how Connor put the weapon back into his waistband. He felt sick. Connor turned to face him, noticing his pale face and the rigid look Kenny kept on the dead body of Justin, and said, "That's business, kid." He stepped up to him, patted his shoulder and then went to turn the television off. Kenny watched Steve lift Justin up and head towards the cellar with him.

XXX

Colby was bored. It was getting late and he would be taking over the position at the window from David, soon, so that his partner could catch some sleep. Charlie looked up from the screen of his laptop at David who read a magazine and glanced searchingly out at the parking lot of the motel from time to time. Charlie sighed, supporting his head with a hand. The headaches were only a slight hammering now which he could ignore without problems. The fact that he didn't have a black board at his disposal, on the other hand, was driving him mad. He could think so much better if he wrote the equations down. And he couldn't get the fight with Don out of his head. He'd thought that they'd made quite good progress in their relationship, but apparently, he'd been wrong. Colby threw the tattered TV newspaper which came with the room on the bed when his cell rang. He leant back in his armchair, grimacing when a loose spring jabbed into his back.

He glanced at the caller ID before answering. "Granger."

"_Is he good?"_ Don asked. Colby grinned, knowing that Don would have never asked this question if Charlie had been able to hear it.

"Yeah," he answered. Then he reported, "Nothing unusual until now. I don't think they've followed us. We paid close attention for any cars that could have been following us."

"_Okay,"_ Don answered, _"we've got a visitor from Denver. We know now who those guys are and we're checking their names to see if they've somehow made their presence known in the last few months. Nothing until now. We're thinking that they're using false IDs, because we can't find anything."_

"Well, we knew that they're not stupid."

Don made a consenting noise and pleaded, _"Just keep your eyes open."_

"Sure," Colby answered, "Do you want to talk to Charlie?" The professor looked up from his work.

Colby knew that he'd asked the wrong thing when Don was silent. Finally, his supervisor said, "No … just tell him … I want him to listen to you." That said, he hung up. Colby looked over to Charlie, putting his cell away. Charlie waited for him to say something.

"He said to tell you …" Why did he suddenly feel like somebody trapped in a family quarrel he had nothing to do with? "… That you should be careful." Charlie sighed, got up and went to the other side of the room, looking through the window into the back garden of the motel. It was an untidy lawn, followed by woods a few hundred feet away. Behind the small forest lay the airport. Colby and David looked at each other. David had told Colby that there'd been an intense fight between the brothers, but Colby had thought it would have been just a small disagreement. Looked as if David was right about the fight's magnitude. Charlie's striking silence and the way Don's voice got strained as soon as he began talking about his brother spoke volumes. Colby watched Charlie staring out the window and got the feeling that he had to say something that would cheer him up. "There's so much going on in the office … Don didn't have the time." David glanced at him in disbelief and Colby shrugged. He'd never been good with words.

Charlie turned around to face him. "I know," he answered with a fake smile. He turned back to look outside, adding softly, "He always is when he doesn't want to talk to me."

XXX

It wasn't easy for Charlie to fall asleep, but he managed it. He kept his clothes on since the agents wanted to be prepared for all eventualities. David had taken the other side of the bed while Colby was watching the parking lot. The only light in the room came from the half closed door to the bathroom and the street lamps outside in the parking lot. The muffled light made it easier for Colby to see the area in front of the motel. He looked at his watch, sighed and got up to wake David. While his colleague was getting up, Colby fetched him a cup of coffee from the machine nearby their room. He took the opportunity to let his eyes stray over the parking lot. A couple was leaning against one of the street lamps, kissing passionately, cars were heading for the airport or were coming from it, and otherwise, everything seemed to be quiet. Colby went back to the room. David was already sitting in the kitchen niche at the small table.

"All's quiet," Colby said softly, then he explained, "I'm hungry and it just stopped raining. I'll go to the gas station down the street and fetch us some snacks, before I go to sleep. Maybe I'll even find breakfast."

David nodded in consent. "Sounds great."

"Be right back," Colby said, taking one of the room keys with him to lock the door from the outside.

XXX

Connor was watching through the field glasses when Granger woke up Sinclair and left. The two men weren't much more than shadows in the dimly lit room through the curtains, but he'd learned everything he could about Eppes' team and he was able to recognize the two agents. The professor was still sleeping. Standing beside Connor, Steve shifted restlessly from one foot to the other. "Damn cold," he mumbled, supporting himself against a tree. The wood which separated the street in which the motel was situated from the airport was dark. Until a few minutes ago, it had rained strongly and water was still dripping on the waiting men. The van was waiting for them on a side street not far from the motel.

"Just a minute," Connor said calmingly and he thought he could feel Steve's mood improving suddenly. "One of them just left." He put the field glasses in his jacket pocket and headed back to the car with Steven. "You're bringing the car around while I'm neutralizing the agent. I want you to help me with Eppes, then. I'm going in through the door; you're coming from the back through the window."

"I don't think you'll need help with the professor," Steve snorted.

"Well, just in case. When I tried the last time, it didn't work."

Steve shrugged. They arrived at the van and Connor fetched his Beretta from the driver's seat. "Try to come as fast as possible, but keep the lights turned off. I'll need a few minutes to the motel. Park directly in front of the room and open the back door. We'll have to leave fast. And try not to hurt Eppes too badly." Steve nodded and got in the car. Connor approached the motel fast but carefully along the sidewalk. He saw Granger walking away from the motel and away from Connor along the street. He seemed to hurry, so Connor also accelerated his steps and only slowed down when he entered the parking lot of the motel. He acted as if he was rummaging about in his coat pocket for the room key, passing by the room in which the agents had checked in. When he was in front of the door he pressed his body against the wall and drew his weapon. He saw the van coming out of the side street in the light of the street lamps and knew that he had to hurry. He took only a second longer to breathe deeply, and then he shot at the lock and kicked in the door. Motel rooms never were very safe.

He had just started to storm into the room, when Sinclair slammed the damaged door shut again. Charlie sat up, startled, and watched David bracing himself against the door. "Charlie," he called, "We need to leave! Through the window!" He fired on the motel door and their opponent withdrew. David knew that he'd give them only a couple of seconds of time. Charlie was opening the big window to the back garden when David turned around to him. When suddenly a tall man dressed in black appeared in front of Charlie, grabbing for him, David pulled him back from the window and to himself, backing into a corner of the room. "Behind me. Behind me," he mumbled and pushed Charlie to the wall, standing in front of him and pointing the weapon at the man who jumped into the room through the window. The door opened and the second intruder entered the room - David immediately recognized him as Connor Hill. He didn't know who he should aim at. He decided in favour of Hill because he had a weapon. But the second that he needed to make this decision had already been too long. Hill shot at him and David was flung back into Charlie's body. Pain shot up his shoulder and through his chest and his weapon fell from his hand.

Charlie tried to hold him up, horrified, when he glided to the ground. "David." But he didn't get a good hold on him and was pulled to the ground by the agent's body. If David was honest, he wouldn't have thought that Charlie would take his weapon and turn it on Hill. His hand was trembling, but Hill nevertheless became careful and stopped. When the other man closed in on Charlie, the professor pointed the weapon at him in warning. But he didn't stop. The last thing David knew was that Charlie indeed pulled the trigger ... and the last thought that crossed David's mind was that he wished that the magazine hadn't been empty. The clicking of the weapon seemed unnaturally loud to Charlie and he pulled the trigger once again.

"No bullets left, Professor," Hill said in amusement. His companion smiled, walking the last few steps toward Charlie while he still was panic-stricken trying to get the gun to work. When the man grabbed Charlie's sweatshirt, Charlie tried to hit him on the head with the gun, but his opponent saw the movement coming and grabbed Charlie's hand tightly. The weapon fell to the ground.

That was when Charlie found his voice. "Help!"

He kicked out when the man pulled him from under David's body and pressed him to the wall, one of his hands covering Charlie's mouth. "Shut up." he hissed. Charlie kicked him in the stomach; however, he regretted the action when it seemed to do nothing than enrage his opponent further who hit Charlie across the face.

"That's enough!" Connor yelled. "We gotta go." He headed out of the room and Charlie was dragged with them. Charlie tried to pull himself loose as he was dragged outside, seeing some people at the windows of their rooms watching them. He wondered why nobody did something and hoped that they'd at least called the police. He slumped in captor's grip, wanting to force his kidnapper to stop, but the taller man didn't seem to care, because he just wound his arms around Charlie's hips and pulled him away from the motel. When Charlie heard police sirens, he tried once more to kick his kidnapper but the man was too strong and he pushed Charlie into the van which was parked directly behind the agent's car. He got in behind Charlie and slid the door shut. For a moment, Charlie couldn't see anything. Then his eyes got used to the little light which fell through the windshield and the safety net into the back of the car. Charlie heard the other man getting into the front of the car and starting the engine. He desperately threw himself toward the door, but his kidnapper grabbed him around the waist and flung him back into the wall. Charlie's head slammed against the metal and for a moment everything went black. "Just sedate him," Connor ordered from the driver's seat and went so fast into a curve that Charlie tipped over. He saw his kidnapper pulling a rag and a glass bottle out of his coat pocket and started to crawl away from him, but he didn't get far and pressed his back against the backrest of the front seats. The man seized his leg, dragging Charlie to him before he pressed a knee in Charlie's stomach and watered the rag with the liquid from the bottle.

Charlie had smelled ether only once in his life before now, but he immediately recognized it. He knew that he couldn't escape at the moment. And it was clear that he didn't have a chance against the taller man pushing him to the ground. But maybe, he'd get an opportunity to escape when they stopped again. But not, if he was unconscious by then. He raised his hands. "No, no. Wait. I'm behaving."

The man's lips turned up in a sadistic smile. "Yeah! You will." He pressed the rag on Charlie's face.


	12. Chapter 12

**11.**

"Oh, no," Colby mumbled when another squad car raced past him with the siren turned on and flashing blue light, followed by an ambulance. He dropped the paper bag with the newly acquired snacks and started to run the last 100 feet toward the motel. His assumption was confirmed when he saw a group of curious onlookers and the police cars parked in front of their motel room. "Damn it." Colby ran the last steps and seized the first policeman he could find. "FBI," he showed his badge, "My partner and I were protecting a man in that room."

The officer put his hands on his hips. "We got calls reporting shots and something looking like abduction. There's only one man in that room."

EMTs came out of the room with a stretcher between them and Colby jostled past the curious onlookers and another officer to reach them. "David," he panted, horrified, when he recognized his partner.

His colleague looked up to him, blood seeping through the bandage wrapped around his shoulder. He mumbled, "Charlie … Colby, they took him." He was pushed into the ambulance and Colby lost visual contact with him when the EMT closed the doors.

"Where are you taking him?" Colby asked.

"Huntington," the man answered then he ran to the front part of the car, got in and drove off. Colby pushed hid worry over David aside and entered the motel room.

A policeman and a man wearing jeans, a pullover and an open rain jacket were occupying the room and looked up when they noticed Colby. The man in civilian clothes showed his badge. "Sir, you can't enter."

"FBI," Colby answered.

The detective shook his head firmly. "This is LAPD's case."

"Not really," Colby answered, irritated. "Those guys shot my partner and took the man we were supposed to protect."

The man narrowed his eyes. "So, this was something like witness protection?"

"Something like that," Colby answered. "Please leave this room, until our Forensics made a sweep." He turned away from the detective, not prepared to bear the poisonous looks and little quarrels over the responsibility and took his cell from his coat pocket. He looked at Charlie's laptop which still stood on the table while he was waiting for Don to answer. He closed his eyes, frustrated, and he heard the two policemen walking past him and leave the room. When Don answered, Colby heard in his voice that he didn't have to tell him what had happened.

"_Colby?_" Don knew.

XXX

Don left for the crime scene without waking up his father. He'd called Megan on the way and she'd contacted Agent Hailey. They arrived in the FBI head office in the early morning after they'd examined the crime scene and ordered searches and roadblocks and after they'd made sure that David would survive by driving to Huntington. Don had never been so tired and gradually, terror crept into his mind. He stared at his computer screen and didn't even notice yet that the screen saver had already started minutes ago. He felt Megan and Hailey's looks drilling into his back while the two stood and discussed the situation in the break room over a cup of coffee. Colby stopped next to Don's desk and rested his hands on the cubicle wall that divided his desk from the rest of the office. "Don," he said softly, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left."

Don looked up at him. "Damn straight."

Colby resisted the urge to look away. "I was too sure of the situation being under control," he said. "That's why I left." He swallowed and straightened his stance before he continued more firmly, "But I didn't miss anything. They were just there, suddenly."

"It doesn't matter how you describe it, Colby. David got shot. Charlie's missing. Nobody can tell what they'll do to him. So, just focus on finding him." Don got up and took his jacket off his chair. He headed for the break room and spoke with Megan for a minute, and then he left the office. Colby stared at Don's screen, sighing. The first big case he had worked with the team and he failed.

"Don't worry about it, okay? He's just worried about Charlie," Megan said from behind him and Colby turned around to face her.

"I don't know. Maybe I should request a transfer."

She shook her head. "Believe the words of a profiler, Colby. That wasn't anger, that was blind panic." She nodded in the direction that Don had disappeared.

"Where's he going?" Colby asked.

Megan sighed deeply. "To talk to Alan."

XXX

Alan wasn't home when Don arrived there shortly after eight a.m. so Don called his father to find out where he was. He learned that his dad had left with Amita to listen to one of Larry's lectures at CalSci. He found the three in Larry's office.

Now Alan sat in Larry's chair, his head supported on his hands, staring into space, while Amita stood behind him and, a hand lying on his shoulder. Larry spoke for all of them, "What does that mean for Charles?"

Sighing, Don leant against the closed office door behind which the university morning had started. "We know that they want something from him. Whatever that is, it will depend on Charlie's … on his … cooperation what will happen next." He did his best not to think about the fact that he was talking about his brother. That was the only way, he could talk at all. Amita bit her lower lip, seemingly forcing herself not to cry. Don concentrated on his father who hadn't said a word since Don had explained the situation to him. "Dad …" Alan looked up to him.

He looked as if he'd aged ten years. "Tell me that you've got a lead."

Don shoved his hands in his pants pockets. "We've got … leads."

Larry noticed Don's hesitation and deduced, "But not enough." Amita turned away from the men and went to the window. Don saw her running a hand over her face.

He stared at Alan; feeling like the teenager who'd lost Charlie on a camping trip, and said, "I'm sorry."

Alan shook his head. "It's not your fault, Donnie."

"Yes, it is. I should have stood up to Merrick. I should have insisted on a safe house for Charlie."

"Would that have changed anything?" Alan asked. "You said that Colby and David were absolutely sure nobody followed them. They found Charlie, either way. They would have found a safe house, too."

Don shrugged, at a loss. "Somebody must have followed them."

Amita turned away from the window. "And if not?" Don glanced at her with interest and she continued, "They've got a hacker. A computer genius. I'm sure he can hack into satellite systems and locate cells. I mean …" She gave a helpless laugh. "That's Hacking 101 by now."

"How did they get Charlie's cell number?" Don asked.

"The university's got the contact addresses of its professors and assistants in its data base. Security's low."

Alan looked up at Don. "You gotta find him."

"Believe me, Dad," Don answered. "I plan to."

XXX

Charlie felt sick, the left side of his face hurt and he thought that his head was about to explode. He swallowed hard to push back the nausea he felt and opened his eyes. Pale morning light fell through a dirty, scabby window into the small, unfurnished room in which he lay on his belly on a thin mattress. A bottle of water stood next to his makeshift bed and he felt the weight of a thick blanket on his shoulders. Spider's webs hung in the corners of the room and around the naked light bulb which hung from the ceiling. The walls and the ceiling were made of concrete, the floor was tiled. It was cold. Charlie turned on his side, pulling his legs to his chest and the blanket more tightly around his shoulders. There was no sound coming through the closed metal door or the window - so he had to be out of town. A key turned in the lock of the door and Charlie closed his eyes. Somebody entered and let the door close behind him. "Professor?"

Charlie forced himself to breathe regularly and to wait. As long as he was unconscious, they surely had to leave him alone. The man stopped next to his mattress and Charlie heard clothes rustling. Something cold was pressed to his cheek and he jerked back, frightened. The other man fell back from his squatting position beside Charlie's mattress, frightened too, while Charlie was pressing himself into the corner of the room. The young man beside his mattress stared at him nervously and unsure. Then he extended his hand, showing Charlie a balled-up towel. "Ice. For your eye." Charlie automatically raised a hand to his sore cheek, grimacing when he felt a cut just under his eye. The young man smiled shyly and put the towel on the mattress. Charlie hesitantly accepted the ice and pressed it against his cheek and his eye while he was watching the boy in front of him. He couldn't be older than twenty-five. His whole posture betrayed his tension and nervousness, perhaps even something like fear.

Before Charlie could ask him for his name, the door opened again and Connor Hill entered. "Kenny?  
His gaze landed on Charlie and he smiled in satisfaction. "Hello, Professor Eppes. Perfect timing." He leant against the door frame, waiting until Kenny had gotten up and walked over to him. "Let's talk business."

XXX

Megan stared thoughtfully at the white board in the conference room, one leg crossed over the other and her reading-glasses in a hand. She chewed on the hanger while she was staring at the white surface in concentration. If she tried hard enough, she could just see the shadows of formulas and equations on the board because somebody hadn't wiped them off thoroughly. Colby was sitting on the other side of the conference table, his head supported in his hands. He was strikingly quiet since Charlie had disappeared. Megan didn't know what she could say to calm him down. She knew that he was blaming himself because Charlie had been taken and also because David was lying in hospital and had to undergo physiotherapy after his release in a few days. The bullet had damaged tendons and muscles in his shoulder. It would take weeks until he could get back to work. Hailey was reading Charlie's file.

"What does Hill want from a mathematician?" Don had asked when calling a quarter hour ago, announcing that he wanted a couple of answers as soon as he arrived in the head office.

Hailey snapped the file shut, banishing the silence. "Professor Eppes was quite busy for a guy his age. He worked for the NSA, CIA, FBI, in academics …"

Megan nodded. "Yeah, Hill could use him for whatever he wants."

"Let's focus on those bank robberies," Hailey said.

Megan turned her chair to face the other female agent and said, "Codes … or he could calculate the best escape routes, but Hill couldn't be sure that Charlie wouldn't try to outwit him." Hailey nodded in agreement while Megan was continuing, "With Charlie, he's got a good hostage against us, but he's got nothing he could use to pressure Charlie with. I think that he'd try to outwit Hill. Judging from Don's stories, he can be pretty stubborn." Don rushed into the room and threw his jacket over a chair.

Megan noticed that he'd pushed aside a big portion of his panic and worry over his brother and seemed absolutely determined to tackle the case professionally. "What's new?"

"Charlie could do a lot of different things for Hill, Don. Why do you think that the answer will get us somewhere?" Megan asked.

"If we'd know what Hill's planning we could be better prepared. Does he want to hit another bank? Or is he planning something completely different?"

Colby spoke for the first time since he'd been called into the conference room, "Maybe he wants Brian Wilder." The arrested accomplice of Connor was still lying in hospital. His GSW was more critical as the doctors had thought at first and he'd had a second operation. Two agents were watching him round-the-clock.

Don looked at Colby for a moment as if he wasn't sure whether he should believe this. "Okay, but why Charlie? Why not David or Megan? Why not me? He could use any one of us to get Wilder free."

"He wants to exchange him for Wilder and while he's got him in his hands, he uses Charlie."

"For what?" Don asked. Colby shrugged.

He pulled Charlie's file towards him and opened it. "I don't think that he needs him for more bank robberies. He manages those without Charlie."

"Well, he doesn't need him for hacking, either. That's what he's got Kenny for," Linda added. Silence reigned for a few minutes.

Don thought that they were approaching an answer. "What can Charlie do that Kenny can't do?" he asked.


	13. Chapter 13

**12.**

Charlie stared silently at Connor while he sent Kenny away with a gesture and then closed the door. "It's easy, really," Connor said, coming toward Charlie, his hands shoved into his trouser pockets. Charlie pressed his back to the wall and stood up. He'd never been tall. Connor towered over him, but Charlie felt better standing up than he would have crouched on the ground. In addition, he didn't want Connor to think that he'd give in easily. The criminal still got closer and stopped only approximately a step away from Charlie, looking down into his eyes. "I want access to a database protected by the FBI's firewall."

Charlie shook his head. "Impossible. I don't know the codes to important information, myself."

"I know that you can access the information I want, if you'd only use your head."

"What information?" Charlie asked.

Connor smiled. "I'd be satisfied enough if you'd log into your FBI member account first, professor. We'll have enough time left to chat once you've done that – and the FBI will never know that a hacker's just entered their system. The last time we tried this we barely escaped. You on the other hand are an official member with a password."

Charlie clenched his hands into fists and pushed them against the cold concrete wall behind him, tensing his whole body to suppress the trembling, and raised his eyebrows defiantly. "No." Connor didn't react immediately. He let Charlie's denial hang between them and waited until Charlie had relaxed a little again. Then he hit him in the stomach and while the young man was still trying to catch his breath, he seized a fist of Charlie's dark hair, forcing him to look into his eyes. Charlie grimaced in pain and laid a hand on his belly protectively. Connor smiled and raised his other hand to Charlie's head, a gun resting against Charlie's temple. Charlie forced himself to smile. "You can't shoot me."

"No," Connor confirmed. He let the weapon sink. When a shot came loose, Charlie thought at first that it had been a mistake but Connor seemed neither surprised nor frightened. Charlie's right leg folded and Connor let him go so that he sank to the ground. He noticed the pain when he saw the blood seeping from his thigh into his jeans. He whimpered, his vision became blurred and the last he heard was Connor who said in a controlled voice, "Oops."

XXX

Merrick tapped his ballpoint pen on the table top of his desk while he was scrutinizing Don and Megan who sat opposite him. His brown-grey hair was lying perfectly like always and his piercing eyes seemed to see every hesitation, every symptom of nervousness.

"I don't like it," Don's supervisor finally said and Don nodded in understanding, trying to suppress his impatience about the interruption of the investigation.

"I know. But I promise you that I won't lose my objectivity."

Merrick raised his eyebrows. "You baby brother was kidnapped by a gang of dangerous criminals and you're telling me that you aren't taking this personally?"

"With all due respect," Don answered softly, "for you, this case isn't personal and I was right, though, when I requested a safe house for Charlie."

"Believe me; I'm not taking this lightly, agent. Professor Eppes proved himself to be a valuable resource in the last few months. But if Agent Granger's right and Hill plans to exchange Professor Eppes for Wilder, I'll have to refuse."

Don clenched his hands impatiently. "I know. I just want to stay in control of the case."

Merrick leant back in his armchair, scrutinizing Don thoughtfully, and then he looked to Megan. "With Sinclair in the hospital, I want you to take over as soon as Agent Eppes loses the control he so badly wants." Megan nodded while Don closed his eyes in relief. Merrick turned his stern look towards Don and continued, "I'm giving you a chance here, Eppes, because I know that you're a great agent and leader. Prove it to me."

XXX

Charlie clung to the bars that were attached in front of the narrow window of his prison, pulling himself up to take a look outside. He grimaced when his injured leg hit the wall and then let his eyes sweep the area behind the bars. Through the dirty glass, he could see a company parking lot surrounded by a high fence, behind which lay factories, depositories and fleets of vehicles. An industrial area. There had to be people somewhere. Even though Charlie couldn't see anybody at the moment. Charlie assumed that he was on a deserted trading estate, because a wire-netting fence surrounded the area. It was old and had several holes, but there were still warning signs announcing punishment when one entered the area unauthorized. The next buildings were a good bit away and Charlie assumed that they were on the outermost edge of the industrial park. Of course, a gang of criminals wouldn't hide right in the midst of people.

The bars were loose and as Charlie stood on the tips of his toes and pulled at them, the screws normally attached deeply into the wall came even looser. It seemed as if they were rusty. The window was small but Charlie assumed that he could make it through.

He had to get the bars loose. Which was much easier said than done. He'd woken up with a makeshift bandage around his leg. Connor didn't seem to want to kill him - at least for now. Charlie had no idea whether he'd be used as a hostage. He only knew that he could by no means give Connor access to the FBI's data base. It was to Connor's disadvantage that he had nothing at hand to force Charlie. At the moment, he still seemed to think he'd be able to break Charlie with pain, however, if he'd asked Don, his brother would have laughed at the thought. Charlie had been beaten up by older pupils for years because they wanted him to do his homework. He'd never given in. And although that hardly compared with his present situation for a ten year old it had been a big thing. In addition, he'd never broken his word- neither to his friends nor the authorities he worked for.

He wouldn't start to now. And who knew whether human lives depended on his cooperation. Charlie took off his jacket and tied its sleeves around the bars. He tugged on the jacket with his body for a moment to make sure the knots could hold him, and then he tightened his hands into the cloth and braced himself against the wall with his legs. He gritted his teeth as his injured leg protested and pulled more strongly. The bars broke loose a little further from their anchorage. Charlie took a deep breath, before he tried again. It felt like hours, however, it could only have been minutes, then the bars broke from the wall and Charlie, surprised, stumbled backwards and to the ground. The bars hit the floor. Charlie grimaced at the loud clattering sound, holding his breath. Nothing happened. The door didn't open. Charlie sighed in relief, and then he got up and limped back to the window.

He opened it and then jumped up to take hold of the windowsill on the other side of the window. He pulled himself up with difficulty and smiled triumphantly when he could squeeze through the opening just so, falling on the wet asphalt of the parking lot on the other side of the window. He didn't move for a few seconds, catching his breath. "I'll have to exercise more," he mumbled. "I'll exercise more." With this firm intention he straightened up and stared directly into Steve's eyes. The other man - standing several feet away from him - seemed to be surprised to see him and Charlie used this chance. He got up as fast as possible and ran off. He didn't know where he was exactly running, but he told himself that he could think about that later.

"Hey!" he heard Steve calling. Charlie stumbled as his injured leg folded and he hit the ground. He scraped his palms, cursed and got on his feet again. A big hole in the fence offered freedom and Charlie ran towards it. It seemed to be so far away. And he could see neither cars nor people on the other side of the fence. Where was everyone? Shouldn't industrial areas be filled with people? Then it occurred to him that it was Sunday. Of course, less people could be found in industrial areas on Sundays. Only small companies which still knew the meaning of weekends were usually situated here. But there just had to be somebody somewhere.

Steve's steps got closer and Charlie knew that he wouldn't be able to outrun him with his injury. Nevertheless, he didn't stop. He tried to run faster when Steve's hand touched his arm briefly. His lungs were burning ... and then, suddenly, he saw a truck in the distance which turned into one of the nearby properties. People! Charlie didn't have the chance to be happy about this knowledge, because Steve's body threw itself into his back and he fell. The two men somersaulted and Charlie heard Steve yelling out in pain. Then, the other man grabbed his collar, pulling Charlie to his feet. "Little bastard!" Steve hissed, hitting him into the face so that Charlie went down, then Steve kicked his ribs. Charlie didn't move, coughing and panting. Steve grabbed his collar once more, pulling him to his feet, and then he dragged him back towards the building. Charlie staggered beside him, trying to catch his breath. Steve didn't fare better. "I swear, you do that one more time, pretty boy, and I'll kill you ," he panted. Charlie coughed. The cold air cut into his lungs and made him stumble. Steve dragged him along pitilessly until they reached the storehouse that was the robbers' accommodation. Steve opened a side door and pulled Charlie with him through it. The door shut behind them automatically. Steve pushed Charlie forwards and he fell to the cold, concrete ground.

"What the hell …?" Connor exclaimed and Charlie stayed on the ground, happy to just lie there and breathe.

"He escaped. If I hadn't gone outside a few minutes ago, he'd be long gone by now."

Charlie looked up now, seeing Kenny sitting on a threadbare leather couch in front of a TV, watching him. Connor apparently had just got up from the same couch and stared at Charlie in disbelief. "How did he do that?" he asked.

"That's what I want to know, too ," Steve answered. "The fucking window had bars in front of it."

Connor turned to face the boy. "Kenny, take a look." He turned back to Charlie, walking over to him. "I have to admit, you surprised me, there." Charlie stayed silent, staring at Connor with a grim face.

Through the now open door to Charlie's cell, they heard Kenny calling, "He removed the bars!" He came back into the hall. "The screws are rusted."

"Steve, take care of it," Connor said and Charlie watched the man pass by him. He turned his attention towards Connor again when the man squatted in front of him. "Well, you're here, now …," he said, pulling on Charlie's arm to force him into a standing position. He pushed him towards a table with two folding chairs placed in front of it. "Sit." Charlie obeyed because the pain in his leg was killing him. Connor opened up the laptop which stood on the table in front of Charlie and, while the device came back to life from the standby mode, he casually rested a hand on the table next to it. He held his weapon with it. Charlie looked at the login page for FBI's staff. He didn't move. "What's the problem, Professor? Forgot you password?" Connor asked in amusement.

Charlie shook his head. "I'm not doing it." Connor sighed deeply. He put a hand on Charlie's shoulder so that the weapon was aimed at Charlie's healthy leg. Charlie closed his eyes, suppressing a panic attack. "My brother will find me."

"Nobody will find you, Professor. Nobody knows where you are." A cell rang. Connor needed a moment until he realized that it was his own. Charlie didn't see what he did since he stood behind him; but apparently, he glanced at the caller ID, because he gave a mumbled, "Damn. That guy's seriously grating on my nerves." Steve was just returning from Charlie's cell, a drill in his hand. Kenny was sitting on the couch, watching the two older men. Charlie thought that he still seemed to be very nervous and insecure. "Steve, take the professor back to his cell." Steve nodded, heading for Charlie. "And this time," Connor continued, "tie him up."

XXX

Steve had screwed on a board in front of the window. The light bulb only provided a little light and Charlie couldn't help but keep an eye on the dark corners of the room. He sighed, leaning his head against the wall behind him. Connor was apparently working for somebody else. The only question was for whom and what did that guy want? Charlie pulled at the handcuffs which was tying his right hand to an old heating pipe behind him. He could still lie down but he couldn't move from the mattress. The door opened and Connor entered. "Thanks to your stubbornness," he said, walking towards Charlie, "one of my customers is angry." Charlie noticed the bottle with ether and a rag in his hand.

"You're selling information from the FBI's data base?" Charlie asked and Connor raised his eyebrows as if he didn't see the problem in that.

"There's data some people would pay a lot for. I'm just filling a gap in the market." He stopped next to Charlie. "I have to meet with my client immediately and try to calm him down. Then, I have to make a call. We'll be back in about an hour. And because you've been nothing but uncooperative up until now, I have to make sure that you'll be still here when we get back." He held up the bottle and Charlie pressed his back to the wall.

He forced his lips to curl into a smile. "What? No guard?"

Connor squatted down beside him. "Of course, Steve's going to stay here. I'm just making his job easier." He opened the bottle and spilled the liquid sedative onto the rag. "As soon as we're back, we'll talk about your cooperation." The way he said it was scaring Charlie. Connor smiled. "Take a deep breath, Professor."

XXX

Colby Granger had seldom felt so rotten in his life. The last time was in Afghanistan. The thought that he was responsible for everything that would happen to Charlie and had already happened to David was taunting him. Even when he saw David lying wide-awake, and apparently in fairly good health in his hospital bed.

"Hey," he greeted happily, "A visitor! How nice, man."

Colby sat down on the chair besides David's bed, forcing himself to smile back. "Yeah. Alan told me to tell you that he'll be by later. And Don and Megan are sending their best. They wanted to come, too, but there's just so much going on."

David's gaze darkened. "You didn't find Charlie, yet?" he asked.

Colby shook his head. "Megan and Don are looking for those guys. Nothing so far."

"That's bad," David answered, trying to sit up straighter.

He grimaced when he put weight on his shoulder and Colby got up hastily to help him. "How are you doing, man?" he asked.

David shrugged his healthy shoulder. "The doc says I'm not going to die. I'll just need time. I think it could have been much worse." He smiled. "Maybe I'll pay Brian Wilder a visit."

"I was just there," Colby answered with a shake of his head. "He's not saying anything. But he knows something. We're thinking that Hill's planning more than a bank robbery."

"Something he needs Charlie for?" David asked.

Colby shrugged. "That would at least mean that he needs him alive," he answered. David nodded, before Colby continued, "The best would have been he hadn't had the opportunity to snag Charlie in the first place."

He stared at the ground and David frowned, worried. "Colby?"

His partner got up and turned away, rubbing his forehead anxiously, before he turned to face David again. "I shouldn't have left."

"That's bull," David answered.

"No. It's true."

David sighed. "Colby, I don't think that you'd have been able to stop them. Those guys knew what they were doing. Maybe, they were even watching us. No matter who'd have left the room, no matter when … they were waiting for it."

Colby put his hands on his hips. "Yeah. That's why I shouldn't have left."

"Colby -"

"Don thinks so, too."

David frowned. "Don's a talented agent, Colby, but he's goes insane as soon as his family's involved. Especially, if Charlie's involved. He's angry at you, but he's at the very least as angry at himself." Colby didn't look as if David had managed to calm him down, therefore he continued, "I put Charlie's life in danger once, too, and Don ripped me a new one. Believe me, I thought that he'd ask for my transfer, but he calmed down, eventually. He sent you to speak to Wilder, right?" Colby nodded slowly. "You see? No problem. He may still be angry, but he knows that Hill was only waiting for the opportunity to take Charlie. I think he would have attacked us as soon as one of us was going to take a shower, too. We made sure that nobody followed us. There was nobody standing outside at the motel. We did all we could."

"Yeah, but they still got Charlie," Colby answered. David realized that he couldn't change his partner's mind.

He sighed deeply and nodded, "Yeah."

XXX

Amita felt quite unwelcome in the FBI head office without Charlie. She'd never been here alone, before. And never unannounced. She folded her arms, seizing the strap of her bag, which hung heavily over her shoulder, with her left hand. Don's desk was cluttered with files, lists and notes. His computer had jumped into the standby mode which indicated that he had to be gone already a long time. Amita took a careful look at the opened files on the desk again, not knowing whether she was authorized at all to look at them. Actually she wanted to ask Don after his progress and offer her help ... her eyes caught Charlie's name and Amita looked around before stepping up to desk and shoving one Brian Wilder's file aside to take a closer look. Under his file lay Charlie's personal FBI file. Amita had to admit that she didn't know much about Charlie. They had known each other for years, but at first their relationship had been purely of the academic kind.

A student and her professor. It wasn't until Amita had gotten Charlie as her mentor that they had gotten closer. Finally, she had become his assistant. She knew Alan and Larry since then, too. She'd spent hours with Charlie over enquiries, calculations and preparations for his classes in his office. They spoke about their private life, but never much. Mostly, it was about mathematics. Because both of them loved numbers. The possibilities which they provided. Both of them knew that they felt more than friendship for each other. But at first, the rules had stood in their way as long as Amita hadn't submitted her work. And now, they were standing in the way of themselves.

Curiously, Amita read over Charlie's file. Suddenly, she had the strange feeling that she was missing something. She frowned, reading once again with more concentration - data, facts, achievements and previous activities for the FBI. She was missing something - quite certainly. Amita let her bag glide to the floor and sat down in Don's chair. It was only a gut feeling - like she had when her equations weren't correct because of a small flaw. She couldn't even say whether it had something to do with Charlie's kidnapping ... she leafed through copies of employee assessments which praised Charlie's work and, shaking her head, read through the first two sheets of the file again – Charlie's résumé.

"Amita."

She flinched and saw Don and Megan standing next to her – both of them looking tired and overworked.

"Sorry, that you had to wait."

She smiled weakly. "It's okay. You're busy." She felt guilty when Don saw her hand on Charlie's file and pulled it into the lap, crossing her fingers.

"What's up?" Don asked.

"I want to know how it's going."

Don ducked his head and Megan sighed. "Not well." Colby called. Brian Wilder was still not ready to speak and his condition prevented the agent to put more pressure on him. At least, David was getting better.

"If you need my help … math, I mean …," Amita said, but Don shook his head.

"I don't know how you could help us, Amita. We've got no data pointing to the hide-out of those guys. Charlie already tried to find it after the first robberies, but he said it'd be easier to determine the most probable next target than the point of origin."

Amita got up and took her bag. "Okay," she said, a little disappointed. She didn't want to go, but she didn't want to stand in Don and Megan's way either. "Call me when you think I could help?"

Don nodded. "Got your cell number."

Amita smiled in encouragement. "You'll find him." She glanced at Charlie's file one last time before she left. Don fell into his chair. Megan crossed her arms, watching Amita leave. Then she looked at Don again. He seemed to be exhausted and stressed. Megan didn't want to imagine the kind of pressure he endured. Alan called frequently to ask for their progress and Amita didn't for sure come only for herself but also for Larry. But the person expecting the most out of Don was himself. Megan couldn't switch off the profiler in her head who watched Don struggling with all that he had not to lose control over the case. Therefore, he bottled up his fear. And he nevertheless managed to make it work. She knew that she probably wouldn't be as composed if one of her sisters was captured by Hill. Don rubbed his face, exhausted. His phone rang and Megan leant against the cubicle wall which surrounded his workplace.

Don picked up. "Eppes?" Megan ducked her head, closing her eyes tiredly. Once again, she went through the possible reasons Hill could want Charlie. It was Don's hand clamping down on her arm which snapped her out of her thoughts. He pressed the phone to his ear. "Connor, is that you?" Megan turned around, heading for her desk.

She grabbed her phone, calling the techs. "We need you to trace the call coming in on Agent Eppes' phone immediately," she said, before the man on the other end had answered the call properly.

Don propped his forearms on his desktop and asked, "Where's Charlie?"

Hill's answer sounded self-satisfied, _"Safe. Come on, Agent, you gotta have figured out by now that I want to use your brother's gift for me. I can't kill him, now, can I?"_ He laughed. _"Though he's damn stubborn and needs … persuasion."_ Don clenched his free hand, while Megan reached over his shoulder, pushing the button for the speakers.

"If he's got so much as a scratch, Connor, I'll kill you."

Hill sighed. _"Now, that's just cliché, don't you think?"_

Megan put a calming hand on Don's shoulder and he knew that it wouldn't help to argue on the phone with Hill, therefore he asked, "What do you want?"

"_I think you already know,"_ Hill answered.

Megan pressed her phone closer to her ear, asking softly, "You got 'em?"

The tech mumbled, _"Not yet, gimme a second."_

Hill continued, _"Brian Wilder."_

Don shook his head. "You know I can't do that."

"_It's easy, Don. Brian in exchange for your baby brother. I could let Charlie go as soon as he's done with helping me, but I could also take my gun, point it at his head and pull the trigger."_

Megan heard the technician ejecting a short, quiet yell of triumph, before he said, _"El Molina Avenue. Near Pasadena Playhouse Movie Theatre."_

"Thank you," Megan answered. She disconnected the call and touched Don's shoulder, before nodding at him. She reached for her phone again and sent a team for Hill's position.

Don shook his head, trying to put Hill off, trying to get a proof of life from his brother, "How do I know you didn't already kill him?"

Hill sighed, as if disappointed. _"You just need to trust me. I'll call you."_ He disconnected the call.

Don slammed his phone down. "Damn it."

"They've got him. El Molina Avenue, Pasadena."

Don got up and took his jacket off the chair. "Well, that's something."

"I've sent a team. But El Molina's practically on the other side of the city," Megan continued.

Don stopped in his tracks. "El Molina, yeah?" he asked. Megan nodded. He pulled cell out of his pocket and called up a stored number before hurrying towards the elevators with Megan on his heels who tried to put on her coat while running. "The hospital's near El Molina," Don said. His colleague picked up and Don said, "Colby. They're on El Molina Avenue. Are you still at the hospital?"

XXX

"Okay, Don," Colby answered and disconnected the call. "El Molina," he mumbled, remembering a cinema situated there which advertised to be the biggest in town. He started his car. He was glad that he'd already been in the parking lot when Don called. Now, he didn't lose precious time by rushing to his car. He took a car's right of way as he left the parking lot and answered the furious horns with flashing blue light. He'd be there before the FBI arrived. El Molina was only about 15 minutes away from the hospital - at normal speed and counting red traffic lights. The FBI was situated almost on the other side of town. He wouldn't mess up this time and he knew this part of the town well enough, despite his recent move to the city. Once in a while, he'd been here with a friend who already lived in L.A. for a couple of years and had shown him the bars here.

He couldn't believe that the robbers had kept themselves hidden in the middle of the town this whole time. Colby reached California Boulevard, overtaking one car after another in rapid speed and turned with squealing tires on Fair Oaks Avenue, before he drove onto the Colorado Boulevard.

It wasn't far now, he could already see the intersection leading to El Molina and turned the flashing blue light off, not wanting to draw the attention of the gang to himself. He braked and drove slower, adapting to the leisurely speed of the inner town traffic. He drove even more slowly to look for the white van the robbers had used during the robberies. He also paid attention to the pedestrians, looking for the face of Hill or one of his accomplices among them. He didn't need to. A white van emerged from El Molina onto Colorado Boulevard and went past him on the other side of the street - Hill was sitting at the steering wheel. Colby waited for a moment, then he suddenly took a U-turn without consideration for other cars and switched on the lights and siren. He ignored the hooting cars and curious pedestrians, concentrating on the white van instead who suddenly accelerated.

Colby stepped on the gas, overtook the car in front of him and sought Don's number via the free intercom from his speed dial.

"_So?"_ Don asked.

"I got 'em," Colby answered. "I'm following them on Colorado Boulevard. They're heading …"Colby took a moment to orientate himself, overtaking a motorcyclist in a dangerous manoeuvre and then continued, "They're heading for Angeles National Forest."

"_Hang on,"_ Don answered and Colby nodded firmly. The van ignored a red light, almost having a run-in with a jeep. Colby followed him over the intersection on Lake Avenue, wondering where the reinforcements were at and prayed that no pedestrian ran in front of the cars. In this part of town at this time of day, many people were milling about. Weekends were luring many customers into the surrounding malls, video arcades and cinemas. And sometimes the citizens of L.A. were less attentive than they should be. The van turned on Foothill Freeway, then the Angeles Crest Highway and Colby was relieved that no more pedestrians were in acute danger for now. He drove faster, threading by the afternoon traffic and watched the van taking an exit after a couple of minutes. He followed and managed to minimize the distance between them. There was no vehicle between them now.

"You got me?" he asked.

"_We got your GPS signal,"_ Don answered. _"We need a moment to catch up."_

"Define moment," Colby answered tensely and turned off behind the van into a forest preserve. The woods were regarded as a recreation area for the people of the surrounding city, offering bathing seas and walks which led up to the near mountains. Colby couldn't imagine that the gang hid someplace here and therefore assumed that they drove through the area hapharzadly, just to get rid of him.

"_We just have to dri …" _The intercom shut off.

"Don?" Colby asked. A glance at his cell told him that he'd lost the signal. "Damn it." He hardly paid attention to the trees passing him by like one single brown-green mass while he was following the van. It turned off on a little woodland path and Colby followed. Suddenly, the van braked. Colby also braked, frightened, and tried to avoid a crash. He lost control over his car. A tree was coming toward him and he pulled hard at the steering wheel. Then, he blacked out.


	14. Chapter 14

**13.**

"Oh, my God," Kenny whispered, staring at the agent's totally destroyed car, breathing heavily. The flashing blue light still worked but the siren had ceased when the dark car had rammed several trees, finally stopping with a crumpled hood and the driver side pressed in. The dark blond driver didn't move. "Is he dead?" Kenny asked.

Connor opened his door. "Move, move!" he called out, running over to the car, when Kenny just stared at the car wreck. Connor had just wanted the agent to lose control, but he hadn't expected that the accident would be so fatal. He'd underestimated their speed. He rattled at the driver's door, finally getting it to open. The driver was lying with his head on the airbag, blood seeping from a cut behind his ear which coloured the collar of his white shirt red.

Kenny stopped besides Connor, breathless. "What do we do when he's dead?" He gasped, suddenly frightened. "That's murder."

"Shut up for a second, Kenny!" Connor yelled at him. He felt for a pulse. "He's alive." He leant the agent back in his seat and reached across his body to undo the belt.

"What are you doing?" Kenny asked.

"Two hostages are better than one," Connor answered.

Kenny looked around anxiously, but neither cars nor hikers could be seen. "Why are you doin' this, Connor?"

The older man pulled the agent from the car, taking him into a fireman's carry. "You know why."

"We could end up in prison for our whole lives."

"They won't catch us," Connor answered, walking back towards the van. "Open the side door."

Kenny obeyed, though he remained sceptical. "I can't go back to prison, Con. I can't. Please … just leave him. And let the professor go." Connor put the agent in the cargo hold of the car and slammed the door.

Then, he put his hands on his hips, staring at Kenny with serious, blue eyes. "You told me you'd be with me the whole way."

"I was with you as long as I'd only have to hack into bank data bases. I didn't want to be part of a kidnapping. And I don't want to kill someone."

Connor put a hand in Kenny's neck and sank his fingers into the boy's brown, short hair. "We have an aim. Nobody can get to us as soon as we've reached it. I told you, I'd be there to protect you. Form the police, from prison and from Steve. But you need to believe in me." Kenny seemed to be undecided, staring at the ground, then, finally, up again into Connor's eyes. He nodded. Connor smiled, brushing playfully through Kenny's hair. "Let's go."

XXX

He ached all over. He didn't know what had happened. He had the feeling that even his eyelids were sore. He grimaced, trying to open his eyes, but he didn't make it. Something cold and wet was pressed to his forehead and Colby flinched.

"Hey," someone said in a soothing voice, "wait! I just wanna wash away the blood."

Colby moaned. "Did I really drive into a tree?" he asked. His memory came back piece by painful piece.

"Looks like it," the other man answered.

"This is turning out to be one hell of a shitty week," Colby mumbled.

"Well, I agree," the other man answered and Colby managed to open his eyes.

"Charlie," he cried out in surprise, trying to sit up, but his head protested. Colby gasped in pain and a hand pressed against his forehead, over the wet rag which was lying there. "Damn it." He ignored the pain with difficulty, concentrating instead on the other man. "Are you okay?" he asked, putting the rag aside.

Charlie nodded weakly, smiling tiredly. "I'm okay." Colby dared to try and sit up again, managing this time even to ban the dark spots dancing in front of his eyes. They were in a little room which was hardly illuminated by a naked light bulb at the ceiling. A board was screwed in front of the only window and a heavy metal door blocked the way to outside. Charlie tapped him with a half filled water-bottle and Colby accepted it gratefully. The mathematician pushed himself to the wall and pulled his legs up to his chest. He shivered a little and Colby suddenly noticed how cool it was in the room. And that they'd taken his jacket away from him. Colby sat down on the thin mattress next to Charlie, not wanting to sit on the cold concrete. He also pulled his legs up, putting his elbows on his knees. His body was still sore and he felt like one huge bruise but, if he thought with which speed he'd driven, he'd been quite lucky. On the other hand, internal injuries took a while to register. He took a look at Charlie who was supporting his head on a hand, staring at the door. He seemed to be exhausted and quite roughed up. His clothes were dirty, his sweatshirt sporting a long rip at the shoulder. Except for a cut below his eye, however, he seemed to be all right. Then, Colby noticed the bandage on Charlie's leg which had hastily been applied over the jeans. The gauze bandage must have been white once, but it had apparently gone through just as much as the rest of Charlie's clothes and was now rather brown than white. Apart from dirt, part of the brown discolouration also could come from dried blood.

"What happened there?" Colby asked.

Charlie sighed. "Connor shot me."

"Why?" Colby asked.

Charlie looked at him, answering, "I didn't want to cooperate." He bit his lip, ducking his head. "But I think it's just, like, a deep graze. I can walk and it stopped bleeding a while ago."

"It could get infected," Colby said in concern. "Let me see."

Charlie shook his head. "I think it's better if the bandage remained. At least until we're out of here."

Colby nodded in consent. "Okay." He looked around. "Let's see how we can do that."

Charlie smiled bitterly. "I tried, already. Reached the fence." He raised the hand which Colby hadn't been able to see until now and the agent noticed handcuffs which were fastened to the heating pipe behind them. "I think I disappointed Connor." Colby was impressed. If he was honest, he wouldn't have thought Charlie capable to put up a fight. It wasn't because he didn't respect him. Charlie had proved him that he could be useful to the FBI. But Colby simply wouldn't have suspected that the rather slight professor would cause his kidnapper problems.

"What does he want?"

Charlie shrugged. "Something from the FBI's data base. He wants me to get it."

Colby was already thinking about Connor's possible targets again. "Which data do you have access to?"

Charlie sighed, leaning his head against the wall, and stared thoughtfully to the ceiling. "Closed cases. Running cases I work on." He looked at Colby. "Not that much, really. I mean, I could gain access to a big number of sectors, because I've got a pretty high security clearance, but … I didn't need to or want to apply for it, yet." The door to their cell opened and Connor entered, a man whom Colby instantly recognized as Steve Klein on his heels. Steve held a Beretta in his hand which he pointed at Colby.

"Agent Granger," Connor said, "you're awake." He seemed to be calm at first glance, but Colby could see that it was only a mask. Connor was under a lot of pressure and the agent was afraid that it made him more dangerous. Colby got up and took a step to the side, standing in front of Charlie. He'd failed him once; he'd make sure that it didn't happen again. Connor smiled. "Let's begin."

XXX

Connor forced Charlie to sit down on the chair in front of the laptop, letting his hands lie heavily on the young man's shoulders. Steve kicked Colby into his hollows of the knee, so that he fell to the hard concrete next to the table with the computer on it. Colby grimaced in pain, however, he stayed silent. Kenny Jacobson leant against the wall behind Charlie and Connor, watching the four men. Colby caught his eyes, but Kenny immediately ducked his head.

"Log in, Professor," Connor asked. Colby watched Charlie clasping his hands with each other on his lap as if he wanted to prevent himself to obey. He stared at the screen. Colby was impressed again. He wondered if Don had rubbed off on his younger brother. He'd possibly even prepared him once for such a situation. On the other hand, Charlie had already worked sensitive cases. Colby suddenly wondered whether Charlie had been in such a situation before. Connor reached behind himself, pulling a Beretta from his belt. Colby grimaced when he pressed the run of the weapon to Charlie's head. "Now, Professor." Charlie closed his eyes. Colby watched his fingers tightening their hold on each other. He could also see that Connor lost the mask of patience he'd put on with so much difficulty. He grabbed Charlie's sweatshirt with his free hand, dragging him down from the folding chair to the ground. He kicked Charlie in the ribs, before he pulled him up again, so that he knelt opposite Colby. A hand fisted Charlie's hair, forcing him to look at Colby. "Your own life may mean nothing to you, Charlie, but what about Agent Granger's?" Connor asked furiously. Colby heard Steve releasing the safety catch of his weapon behind him and he just knew - felt - that it was pointing at him. Charlie stared at him in alarm.

Colby could see that he was about to give in and shook his head in warning. "Don't, Charlie."

Connor noticed that Charlie hesitated, also, and placed the next verbal blow. "And as soon as we're done with Agent Granger, how about we'll invite your pretty girlfriend?" He squatted down next to Charlie. "Or your father? I don't want to drag innocents in this matter, but if you're not leaving me another choice …"

"Charlie," Colby said in a firm voice, "Don't." Charlie stared at him, swallowing hard. Silence descended over the hall while Connor was waiting. Colby heard somebody gasping for air and he looked at Kenny who was standing against the wall with his arms wound tightly around himself. The boy looked as if he'd prefer to be in prison rather than here. Maybe, Hailey was right and he was a victim. Connor's sharp order snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Steve, shoot him."

"No!" Charlie yelled. "I'll do it." Connor smiled while Charlie repeated, "I'll do it."

XXX

Megan stared at the car wreck in front of her, crossing her arms. She was ignoring the agents and Forensics working while she thought about how at the beginning of the week, they'd been a team of five. Five people trying to catch Hill and his bank robber gang. And now, they were two - three with Agent Hailey. Don questioned the family who'd contacted the police while Hailey was joining Megan. "I'm so sorry," she said.

Megan sighed deeply. "Not your fault. And we'll find them." She cleared her throat and asked, "No abandoned buildings in the vicinity? Nothing that could be used as a hiding place?"

Hailey shook her head, blowing a fair-haired curl out of her forehead and indicated the map which she'd spread across the hood of Don's car. "I looked at the map and I even called the municipal authority to ask for abandoned industrial areas around here, but they came up empty. Angeles Forest is a nature reserve – no industrial areas allowed."

"Why did they drive by here?" Megan asked thoughtfully.

Hailey shrugged. "To get rid of Agent Granger, I think. Hill's smart. He wouldn't risk leading anyone in his hide-out."

Don joined them, the troubled look which was dug into his dark eyes since Charlie's kidnapping now edged in even deeper. "They watched two men carrying a third into a van and driving off. They were too scared to confront them, but they called the police from one of the emergency phones placed beside the trails as soon as they could. They say, one of the men was big and blonde, the other one was just a boy with brown hair."

Hailey crossed her arms. "Hill and Kenny."

Don nodded. "I think so, too. They seemed to have an argument. The boy looked as if he didn't want to be part of the deal anymore, but the other man managed to calm him down."

"So, we can be sure that they've got Colby," Megan said.

Don nodded. "Pretty sure, yeah. He's not here and rangers are searching the area. But I don't think that he just got out of his car and walked away. The witnesses are credible."

Megan looked back to the car wreck. "Forensics says that he can't be injured too bad. There's only a small amount of blood in the car."

"Let's hope that he doesn't have any internal injuries," Don answered and Megan nodded.

"It actually makes sense that Hill would take Granger," Hailey said after a moment of thoughtful silence. Don and Megan looked at her and Hailey explained, "Hill said so himself, he needs Professor Eppes to do something for him. Would he refuse?"

Don to whom the question was addressed answered, "He's not the type of guy you can convince easily. And he's loyal."

"That's a no," Hailey said. "Hill can't hurt him too much, because he needs him up and about. Or torture didn't get him anywhere, yet." Don grimaced while Hailey was talking about Charlie in connection with violence as if it meant nothing at all. But didn't he frequently do the same when he talked about the victims of his cases? "Then he needs a victim to force Professor Eppes into cooperation."

"But Colby and Charlie aren't exactly close. Colby's new on the team. They barely know each other."

"But Colby was practically running into Hill." Megan answered. "He takes what he gets."

Don rubbed his forehead. "And Charlie won't let Colby get hurt."

XXX

Charlie slowly got up, sitting down at the table. Colby shook his head. "Charlie, don't do this." Steve kicked the kneeling agent between the shoulder blades so that Colby fell forward.

"Shut up!" he yelled.

Charlie looked up apologetically to Colby while Connor was stepping behind him. "Log in, Professor. Now," he ordered impatiently. Charlie obeyed. He entered his password with trembling fingers and logged into the FBI's system which was also at the employees' disposal at home or wherever they needed it. "Very good," Connor said. He turned to Steve. "Lock Granger up. I think the professor's now ready to help us." Steve pulled Colby up and back to the room on the other side of the hall. Charlie watched Steve pushing Colby into the room and locking the heavy door. "Kenny," Connor said. There was no answer from the boy, therefore Connor turned around to face him. "Kenny!"

Charlie turned around, too, and watched Kenny flinching. "Sorry," he mumbled. "What?"

"Make some sandwiches. For the professor and Agent Granger, too."

Kenny nodded quickly and actually fled in the direction of the little refrigerator which was situated in a corner of the storehouse. Connor put a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Let's start."

XXX

Amita hurried across the entrance hall of the FBI building and just was about to rush through the safety when one of the security agents grabbed her arm, holding her tight. "Wait a minute, Lady."

"I'm a civilian consultant," Amita said, staring longingly towards the elevators. "I've got news for Agent Eppes. Please, let me up."

"Let me see your consultant badge, ma'am," the man opposite her said and Amita bit her lip and cursed softly.

"I was using a visitor badge the last time I was here." She turned to the receptionist with a pleading look. "You remember me, don't you? I was here with Professor Eppes. Not even a week ago." The woman shook her head helplessly. Amita cursed again, slapping the counter with her palm in frustration.

"Ma'am, I'm asking you to leave," the security agent said and Amita answered, "No. I've got information. Call Agent Eppes. He knows me."

"I'm afraid Agent Eppes is not here at the moment," the receptionist said after looking into her computer.

"Well, then call Agent …" Amita tried feverishly to remember the name, tucking her black hair behind her ears nervously. "Megan, her name's Megan."

"I think it's time you leave, ma'am," the man said impatiently, grabbing her arm again.

"No, it's important. I had a badge."

"Visitors have to be invited by an agent every single time before entering the building or come in with an agent or authorized employee, ma'am. And as it is, I know that for today, no visitors were registered and I don't see an agent or registered employee with you."

Amita barely held back from slapping him for his condescending voice. "I'm a civilian consultant," she claimed. She possibly was exaggerating a bit there, but she'd actually advised independently for this case.

"As soon as you show me your ID badge, I'll let you through," the man answered.

"Aren't you listening to me?" Amita asked furiously. "I've got information."

"Ma'am, who doesn't?" the man answered.

Amita turned back to the receptionist. "Call Megan. She's part of Don Eppes' team. There's only one Megan in his team."

"Are you talking about Agent Reeves?" the woman asked hesitantly.

"Yes!" Amita called out in triumph. "Right. Agent Megan Reeves." The man sighed, nodding at the receptionist. She grabbed her phone.

A few minutes later, Megan was joining them. "Thank God," Amita said after Don's partner had authorized her visit and they were standing in the elevator on the way upstairs.

"We'll get you a consultant badge as soon as possible," Megan answered. "What's so important?" she asked.

Amita stared at her in excitement. "I know what they need Charlie for."


	15. Chapter 15

**14.**

Don put his hands on his hips, staring at Brian Wilder, waiting for him to crack. Wilder's public defender was sitting beside the man's bed and adjusted his glasses. "My client's got nothing to tell you. I think he told that Agent Granger already."

"Well, Agent Granger couldn't possibly relay this message to me since Brian's leader Connor Hill kidnapped him."

Wilder's brown eyes widened doubtingly and Don saw that he started to smooth out the cloth of his blanket nervously. Hailey apparently also noticed Wilder's unrest. "Things are going south really fast for your client. Not only did he rob twelve banks, launched an attack against federal agents and is responsible for the kidnapping of a civilian consultant, he's also part of the kidnapping of a federal agent."

"Hey," Brian interrupted, "I didn't kidnap anyone, okay? Neither the consultant nor the agent." The attorney raised a calming hand.

Don didn't let it slide. "But you're not revealing the hide-out of your gang, either. That's why you're responsible for the kidnappings, for any kind of torture and – should it happen – even for murder, too." Don swallowed and was proud that he'd said the words without hesitation. He hoped that it wouldn't come to murder. He saw Wilder's unease grow.

His attorney explained, "The only thing you can accuse him of is refraining from aid. He didn't know of any kidnappings. They never talked about that or planned it. He's only responsible for the bank robberies."

Wilder nodded firmly, seemingly finding his self-confidence. "I don't have anything to tell you," he said. Don turned away in frustration.

Then he faced Wilder again. "Why? Why do you do that?" Wilder shook his head and stayed silent.

When Don and Hailey stepped onto the corridor of the hospital again, she explained, "There's money waiting for him somewhere. That's why he's keeping his silence. He'll go to prison and do his time, knowing that when he's free, he's rich. That's Hill's way to ensure loyalty. Everyone gets his percentage and hides it away. The others don't know where the money is. It's going to wait for Wilder."

Don ran a desperate hand through his hair. "Damn it," he mumbled, leaning against the white wall. He closed his eyes. "This whole case is one big dead end. And Charlie…" He stopped. He would have to call his father again in just an hour. Alan had insisted on regular news. Don was tired of having to disappoint him. His cell rang. "Eppes?"

"_Don, it's Megan,"_ his partner said. _"Amita's here. She knows why they took Charlie."_

XXX

"You know why?" Don asked doubtingly as soon as he saw Amita sitting on Megan's desk. "How?" Megan handed him Charlie's file.

Amita explained, "I looked at the file while I was waiting for you a few hours ago. The solution lies in Charlie's work for the FBI. He updated your firewall a few months ago, right?"

Don nodded. "Yeah. He created the algorithm to make attacks from hackers impossible. We had problems with a hacker trying to enter our data base."

"That was six months ago – two months after the prison break," Megan said, getting up from her chair. She leant against her desk next to Amita. "Our techs were able to trace the attack and catch the guy, remember?" Don nodded. Megan brushed her light brown hair out of her forehead. "It was a young man who owns a motel in the city. He claimed innocence and swore that he didn't do it but one of his guests. But because he was caught as a teenager trying to change his grades in the school's data base he was found guilty."

"So?" Don asked impatiently.

Megan looked at the file containing the notes and reports on the case. "And … there were only four guests in his motel when he was arrested. A high ranking town-councillor with his lover and, as described by the motel's owner, a young guy with his sugar daddy. The description fits Connor Hill and Kenny Jacobson. And now to the really interesting part: the owner said that they fled the scene in a white van without paying for the room and only minutes before the FBI arrived."

Don shook his head. "Nobody believed him."

"Well, now, I do. I'm sure that Kenny realized he'd raised the alarm and that the FBI would be on its way. They fled before the FBI arrived."

"Wait a moment," Hailey said, "so, now they're trying to hack into the database they wanted to crack a few months ago and whose security system was updated by Professor Eppes?" Megan nodded.

Amita added, "I remember Charlie working on it non-stop. I even helped him. I tried to hack through his algorithm."

"What database are we talking about?" Hailey asked.

Megan crossed her arms. "One of the most valuable. Witness protection."

XXX

Charlie shook his head desperately. "I can't. I don't have the access code to witness protection. I'd have to apply for it. I mean, I'd get the access without a doubt, but … I'd have to personally apply for it."

Connor bit into his sandwich and pulled his chair closer to sit next to Charlie. "Don't try to trick me, Professor. I'd already dismissed the idea with witness protection, because Kenny didn't get around the firewall and if someone like him can't do it … so we focused on the preparations for the bank robberies. I have to admit, it's been a coincidence that we found you. We just wanted to check who was surveying the bank with Agent Eppes. But when I saw what you did a few months ago, I knew that we'd need you. Now, I've got a couple of very impatient customers who wanna pay a lot of money for a few names and addresses. Don't disappoint me now." Charlie stared at the screen. Kenny was sitting opposite him and looked down at his sandwich. He didn't look hungry. On the contrary, he seemed to be sick. Connor seized a handful of Charlie's hair, forcing him to look into his eyes. "You write down the algorithm you worked out. Kenny'll do the rest. And while he's working on it, the FBI won't disturb us since we're logged in with an authorized password. They'll notice when it's too late." Connor looked across the table to the unhappy young man. "Right, Kenny? With the algorithm, you can do it." Kenny nodded hesitantly, looking up at Charlie and staring at him pleadingly. Charlie threw back a pleading look of his own but Kenny avoided his eyes. Connor turned back to face Charlie again, waiting. Charlie knew that Connor was once again getting impatient. "So?"

Charlie shook his head. "I can't. That'd be murder." Connor jumped to his feet and dragged Charlie at the hair towards the door behind which Colby was waiting.

"Steve, open up," Connor ordered, letting go of Charlie's hair and seizing his arm instead to pull him further. Steve opened the door and pointed his weapon at Colby who got up from the mattress. Connor flung Charlie forwards and his injured leg folded. He landed on the tiled floor of the room. "Do it now or we'll shoot him." Steve stepped next to Charlie, pointing the weapon at Colby. Past Steve's legs, Charlie could see Kenny who was standing behind them, watching the scene.

"It'd be murder," he said, addressing the words at Kenny who took a step back, "All those children and families."

"I'll give you one more minute to think it over," Connor answered. Charlie remained lying on the ground so that he could look at Kenny, staring at him pleadingly. Kenny crossed his arms and tried to avoid Charlie's eyes, but apparently, he couldn't get himself to look away. Charlie knew that Kenny didn't want this.

Colby took a step forwards. "Don't, Charlie. It's okay."

"Stay back," Connor demanded and while he and Steve were distracted from Colby who raised his hands and stepped back again, Charlie looked at Kenny and formed one word with his lips: _Please_.

Kenny wiped his eyes, avoiding Charlie's eyes, then he raised the thumb of his right hand briefly and answered mutely: _Do it._

"Last chance," Connor said.

"Okay ," Charlie replied. "I'll do it."

Connor was surprised for a moment, however, and then he nodded. "Good." He threw a note pad and a ball point pen on the floor. "Write it down." Charlie grabbed the pen.

XXX

Connor left the room with a smile and the pad. The door slammed shut and Colby said, "You shouldn't have done that." Charlie leant against the wall, pulling his legs to his chest.

He hugged them with his arms, answering, "Kenny's on our side."

"What?" Colby asked, confused.

"I think that he doesn't want this as much as us."

"Why's he doing it?" Colby asked.

"Because of Connor ," Charlie answered.

Colby nodded slowly, thinking back to what Hailey'd told them. "Possible. Connor protected Kenny in prison." Charlie sighed deeply, closing his eyes. He wanted to go home. To Don and his father. He wanted to see Larry. And especially Amita. Colby joined him, sitting down beside him. "We'll get out of here, soon," he said in a soothing voice. Charlie wanted to believe him.

XXX

The little envelope in the lower corner of Don's screen pointed out penetratingly to him that he had an internal e-mail. But, at the moment, he really didn't feel like opening it. On the other hand, it could be a message from Merrick and that convinced Don to open the e-mail. He stiffened when he saw the sender. It came from the internal address of his brother. Charlie never used this mail address but every employee had one.

_Your brother's in the old Silver__ media building. Connor and Steve are armed._

"My God," Don mumbled. Megan and Hailey turned to face him. Megan was sitting at her desk, speaking to witness protection about the threat while Hailey was speaking with the IT from David's phone, warning them.

Megan got up and pulled at the long cable of her telephone to lean across Don's shoulder. "Oh, my God," she said. The she spoke into her phone. "Shannon, gotta go. We have a lead concerning the hacker."

"_We won't raise the alarm as long as possible. But we'll take the data from the server until you tell us it's over."_

"Okay," Megan answered, and then she disconnected the call. "Is the e-mail from Charlie?" she asked doubtingly.

Don grabbed his phone. "It's coming from Charlie's internal address. He's talking about Connor and Steve – gotta be from Kenny," he corrected.

Hailey disconnected her call. "I've got confirmation. Professor Eppes has been logged in since this afternoon."

"Why didn't anyone notice?" Megan asked.

"There wasn't an alarm. The access was authorized, so nobody noticed," Hailey answered.

Don talked into his phone. "I need a team for a hostage situation - ASAP. We'll meet downstairs." Megan clipped on her gun and waited for Don to end his call and fetch his weapon, too. Then they left to get equipped.

"Silver media," Megan said in the elevator, "that's a tiny studio in the industrial park Vernon. They bankrupted a few years ago, never got out of the B-movie-genre. My neighbour told me that was working there for a while."

"Why didn't we notice the building before?" Don asked.

"There are just too many abandoned buildings in and around Los Angeles, Don."

The doors opened. Don nodded. "Doesn't matter," he said, greeting the team equipping themselves already with a nod of the head. "As long as we get Charlie and Colby back."

XXX

Don waited until all teams had given their okay, before he said into his radio, "Move. Move." Then he pushed the door to the big hall open in which film sets had been built up years ago. "FBI!" he called. The hall had been made homely. The white van stood before the big rolling gate through which agents were filling in as well as through the many doors. Suddenly, bullets hit the wall next to Don and Megan. They threw themselves to the ground and crawled for protection behind a couch. He looked around the sofa, watching Connor and Steve firing in all directions. But they fought on lost position, because they were only two versus many more agents. Steve was hit and went to the ground while Connor was disappearing through a metal door. Don and Megan were positioned near the door and crouched low while making their way over while the other agents were storming the cellar and the remaining rooms.

Colby was on his feet as soon as the muffled noise of shots had penetrated through the metal door. "Charlie. That's them," he said in relief, pulling the professor on his feet and into a corner of the room. The door opened and Connor came in. He slammed the door shut and turned the key, before looking around for his hostages. When he discovered them, he pointed his weapon at them. A shot was fired - outside - and drilled into the metal of the door just above the lock. Colby knew that his colleagues needed more time.

"Not much time left," Connor said coldly and Colby could recognize the man who had kill three people in him, "Come here, Charlie. You gotta say hello to your brother."

Colby pressed Charlie to the wall although the professor didn't move to obey Connor. "It's over ," he said. Charlie flinched when Connor pulled the trigger.

He stared at Colby when the agent moaned and noticed that his shirt turned red at the chest. "Colby?" he asked with panic colouring his voice.

"I don't need you anymore, agent," Connor said. Charlie stared him in disbelief, then he tried in vain to cushion Colby's fall as he sank to the floor. Without letting himself think about it, he took off his sweatshirt and pressed it on the bullet wound. He got cold fast in the t-shirt he wore under the sweatshirt, but he concentrated on the agent. Something rammed the door and Connor hurried over to Charlie. When the door was hit again and gave way, Connor grabbed Charlie and pulled him up, using him as a shield. Don, Megan and another two agents stormed the room and grasped the situation, before pointing their weapons at Connor threateningly. Don took a step forwards and Connor pressed his gun to Charlie's temple. "Déjà-vu," he said.

"Yeah," Don answered, "only this time, there won't be an emergency exit."

"Drop your weapon," Megan ordered. Charlie stared at his brother. He wanted Don to tell him what he should do. He didn't know. Connor tightened his grip, taking another step in Charlie's direction. And closer to Colby. Charlie saw the movement from the corner of his eyes before Connor did. Colby's foot hit Connor's knee with all the force the injured agent could manage and Charlie heard something breaking in Connor's knee. Connor yelled out, letting Charlie go. Charlie squatted down and Don fired. A shot into the shoulder sufficed. Connor stumbled back and sank to the ground. The two agents Charlie didn't know immediately approached to disarm Connor while Megan hurried over to Colby.

Charlie watched Connor being arrested and started when Don put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey," his brother said in a soothing voice, squatting down beside him, "it's over." Charlie let himself fall to the ground, supporting his head in his hands as the strain of the last days suddenly fell on him. He got nauseous and started to tremble. "It's okay," Don mumbled. Charlie heard clothes rustling and felt Don draping his heavy jacket around his shoulders. "Are you hurt?" his brother asked softly. Charlie swallowed hard. "C'mon, buddy," Don mumbled, draping an arm around his shoulders. "Talk to me."

Charlie leant into the hug and answered, "Thanks." He swallowed with difficulty once more, trying to suppress tears and kept his eyes closed to hide them. "Thanks." Don put his arms around his brother, pulling him into an embrace. They didn't do this often. Their mom had been the tactile one in their family. And although Charlie had always enjoyed and accepted an embrace or a kiss from her, he was more restrained \with his father and his brother.

Don watched the EMTs who'd gathered around Colby and answered softly, "You're welcome."


	16. Chapter 16

**Epilogue**

The door to the Eppes' house opened and laughter resounded inside, followed by Larry's voice. "I say to him: How can you seriously expect to get a good mark from me if you cannot distinguish the difference between a singularity and a nova? And he answers: There's a difference?"

Charlie closed the door, shaking his head in disbelief. "How did he even get through the aptitude tests?"

"I'd like to know that, too," Larry answered.

Alan joined them from the kitchen. "Well, just in time for dinner," he said, putting the lasagne on the table.

"I'm always on time when there's lasagne," Charlie answered.

Alan nodded with a smile. "That's true. Sit down." He got two more plates and cutlery for Larry and Amita and they sat down to eat.

"Where's Don?" Charlie asked. "Normally, he's able to smell your cooking from his office."

"He called," Alan answered, "He's coming by later. He wanted to visit Colby, first."

"We were there this afternoon," Charlie replied. Alan raised his eyebrows in question and Charlie continued, "He's fine. Just a bit bored since they released David."

"I didn't get that impression," Amita answered. "At least as long as that brunette nurse was in the room."

Larry shrugged. "Can you blame him?"

Charlie laughed. "You're into brunettes?" he asked.

Larry shrugged again, answering, "What shall I say? They exert a certain fascination over me."

"A fascination," Amita echoed questioningly.

"Brunettes like …" Charlie made a show of thinking about his sentence and then added, "… Megan?" Larry picked at his food.

Charlie stared at him waiting for a reply and Larry finally said, "Possibly. She at least made a very pleasant impression on me when we met recently."

Charlie grinned. "Go, Fleinhardt," he said.

"Hello? Anybody home?" Don asked, closing the door behind him. He joined them at the dinner table and answered his own question, "Everybody, I see."

"Get a plate," Alan said. "There's enough for everyone."

"Dad, I don't think we'll ever see the day when there's not enough," Don answered, sitting down at the table.

"It's your fault. You made him that way," Charlie answered. "Because you used to bring your friends home unannounced."

Don frowned. "I was six years old."

"And you didn't stop until you went off to college," Alan answered.

Don shook his head. "I'm not taking the blame. These are Charlie's friends." He became serious. "I talked to the public prosecutor's office. Wilder's going to do time, that's for sure. But we don't know if he'll be condemned for the kidnappings, too. Hill's going to prison for that. He's trying to pass the blame on to Steve, but … you can't talk bad about the dead. That's making a bad impression on the judge and the jury."

Charlie nodded slowly, before asking the one thing he was really interested in, "What about Kenny?"

"Well, he'll be condemned for hacking, that's for sure, but he got dragged into this whole deal by Hill and he helped to save you. That's going to help him."

Charlie ducked his head in concern. "He's so smart. He could do anything – be anything."

Don nodded. "Yeah."

XXX

When Don was alone with his brother in the kitchen doing the dishes, he said, "You know, Hailey believes that Kenny only became this way, because nobody was looking out for him." Charlie looked at him with a questioning look. "And that you would have become the same way under those circumstances."

Charlie dried a plate which hadn't fit into the dishwasher and asked, "What do you want me to say?"

Don sighed. "I don't know. I just kept thinking that I didn't really pay attention to your gift."

Charlie stopped his movements. "Mom and Dad were there for me."

"Yeah, but you didn't correct Dad's blueprints or help Mom with the housekeeping money. You did my math homework."

Charlie smiled. "At least until Mom found out."

"Charlie …" Don drained the sink and dried his hands. "I'm trying to apologize here."

"I know that. You don't have to," Charlie answered softly. Amita's laughter penetrated the kitchen door.

"Not only for that, but for everything that happened … after Mom's death."

"I think I was pretty annoying back then."

"No. You were just … I should have realized that you were grieving your own way because of Mom's death and … everything. And I shouldn't have thrown those words your way or …"

Charlie smiled. "The chalk?"

"What?" Don asked.

"You threw chalk at me," Charlie answered.

"See? I don't remember." He sighed. "I don't want to shut you out of my life, buddy. I didn't mean it that way at the time and I didn't a few days ago. And for all that … I'm sorry. You're not just a … abacus for me. This last year … was important to me. That we reconnected. And I want you to work for us."

"I know," Charlie answered. "Thanks."

"Great," Don said in relief, patting Charlie's shoulder and feeling as if he'd just ended a dangerous mission. He turned away and fetched a beer from the refrigerator. "So … when are you going to ask Amita out?" he asked.

Charlie shrugged. "Don't know yet."

Don rolled his eyes and draped an arm around Charlie's shoulders, leading him towards the kitchen door. "But you will, right?"

Charlie hesitated for a moment, and then he answered, "I will."

"Great," Don answered, opening the door. "Dad's still waiting for those grandkids, you know."

The door closed behind them.

END

JJ 06/09


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